


All That I Have Seen

by Felilla



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, But Still a Character Death, Character Death, Feels, Female Protagonist, Fix-It, Friendship, Gen, I'll add more tags as i go, Inappropriate Use of Lightsabers, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kinda Reincaration, LGBTQ Female Character, Lightsaber Battles, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mentions of Mental Illness, Nightmares, Not Really Character Death, Not Really?, Original Character-centric, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Strong Female Characters, Strong Language, The Force, Time Travel Fix-It, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 36,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13548414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felilla/pseuds/Felilla
Summary: She died in the Temple, staring into the face of a man that she once looked up to, a man that she once thought to be a great Jedi.She awoke in the Temple, years before that event took place. Years before everything went wrong. And she decided to make it right.There was nothing she could do now. No one she could help, even if she managed to get up. She wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t smart enough. She hadn’t seen this coming and for some inexplicable reason, she blamed herself. She, a young woman that had only spoken to Anakin Skywalker maybe twice in her entire life, blamed herself for the entire fall of the Jedi Order.She would’ve laughed at the morbid thought if she could. She didn’t want vengeance though. She wanted to understand. She wanted to know what led to this. What went wrong and when. She would’ve tried to stop it, if she could, even if she ended up right back here, on the marble floor of her home. At least, then, she would’ve been worth something.





	1. prologue

**_["Trust in the Force."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pi0Z51-BiBY) _ **

She’d been a Jedi Knight for a total of two weeks, three days, and seven hours, and thirty-six minutes and she was going to die. She knew this fact with absolute certainty, praying that the Force would keep her Master safe. It was misplaced prayer, she knew, and a selfish one, but it was the only thought that consumed her mind as she sprinted through the halls of the once peaceful Jedi Temple.

The choking atmosphere of smoke hung heavy in the air, strangling her senses. She didn’t need to see, thankfully, her Master had made sure of that, but it made it more difficult to breathe. She wished for the safety of the library, where Jocasta Nu lay dead on the ground, or the Council chambers where she’d found tiny beheaded bodies.

Bile rose into her throat at the thought, but she shoved it down. The nursery. That was her destination now. The screams of the fallen filled her ears, whispering names and words or just screaming and screaming and screaming. She tried to remember the names, tried to say prayers for them in her mind and under her breath, but the jumbled mess of noiseless sound was making her head spin.

The nursery, she reminded herself. The nursery. _Shaak Ti_ , a voice crooned in her ear and her heart thumped painfully against her chest. So the monster lurking these halls had even taken down the Masters. Was Master Windu safe? Or Master Yoda? Or even off-planet Masters, like Master Plo Koon? What about her Master? Was she safe?

She stopped. A cold, unnerving chill settled in her bones, crawling down her spine, digging into her head and muscles. She resisted the urge to tremble, to shake as the horrifying, sickening presence drew closer. What was she going to do? A newly Knighted Jedi against someone that had killed so many? So many more skilled than she? Who was she compared to them? She turned, but when her hands grazed her lightsabers, they flew from her belt and into the waiting hands of someone else.

The cloaked figure stood down the hall, silent, a blue saber gripped in his hand. And she could tell now it was a “he”. She could even tell, from this distance, that the signature felt somewhat familiar, but it had been twisted and warped into a dark, disharmonious entity that threatened to swallow her whole.

She had faced many things in her young life, but never something so evil and vile.

Her knees gave out underneath her as the man approached, dropping her lightsabers onto the ground as if it were nothing but a toy for him to throw away. His steps were sure and he almost swayed like a puppet left to dangle. She scrambled back. Every primal instinct in her urged her to get to her feet and _RUN_. Run away from this monster. From the Temple. From the Order if she had to.

She just had to run.

The man continued towards her, unperturbed by her desperate attempts to get away.

Her hand hit open air and her head cracked against a stone step. Hot blood slipped down her head, mixing into her already scarlet hair. She caught herself as a series of wails cut through the silence. The nursery.

With every ounce of energy left in her body, she summoned a lightsaber to her and- A sharp, unbearable pain ripped through her chest. She watched as her saber shuddered in the air and thudded to the ground. With wide green eyes, Opheia looked down at the beautiful azure blade dug into her body, as if starlight had exploded from her heart. She gasped, unable to draw the air into her lungs as she turned her gaze to _him_. The man that killed her. The man that had killed all of them, even the innocent children that knew nothing of life or death.

She knew him. He was someone she admired. Someone she’d hero-worshipped until her Master taught her the futility of it. He was a great man, a great Jedi.

But his eyes glimmered a sickening yellow, the color of amber in the sun and molten gold. The color of greed. The color of hatred and sorrow and so, so much anger. “Skywalker?” the name fell from her lips, more of a hiss than actual comprehensible syllables.

He didn’t respond as he removed the blade from her heart. She slumped to the ground, her skull once again smacking against the marble steps, and watched with fading vision as his feet stepped past her and continued to the nursery.

The crying fell silent, but the Force continued to scream. There was nothing she could do now. No one she could help, even if she managed to get up. She wasn’t good enough. Wasn’t smart enough. She hadn’t seen this coming and for some inexplicable reason, she blamed herself. She, a young woman that had only spoken to Anakin Skywalker maybe twice in her entire life, blamed herself for the entire fall of the Jedi Order.

She would’ve laughed at the morbid thought if she could. She didn’t want vengeance though. She wanted to understand. She wanted to know what led to this. What went wrong and when. She would’ve tried to stop it, if she could, even if she ended up right back here, only the marble floor of her home. At least, then, she would’ve been worth something.

With one last shaky exhale, she closed her eyes.

And in the Jedi Temple, Opheia Heldsworth, newly appointed Jedi Knight, died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was born out of a love for Star Wars and its characters and goddamn it, they deserve to be happy. I have another Time Travel fic called "The Unreliability of Chronology", but I kinda wanted to delve into a different mindset of Time-Travel Fix-It with a character that doesn't have any direct correlation to the main characters, a character very far removed from the emotional implications of Skywalker and his found family, but a character that still wants to do the right thing and save everyone. So, I present to Opheia Heldsworth.
> 
> And no, Opheia is not the character paired with Obi-Wan.


	2. to put all trust in the force

[ **“ _We are the Force and the Force is us._ ”** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eukcZ5J-3Hc)

“Hey, you okay?”

Opheia bolted up, her heart pounding in her chest as she sucked in a very real, very relieving breath of air. It took her several seconds to realize that her lungs weren’t screaming for the air she was greedily inhaling like some kind of rabid animal. She closed her eyes and found her center and just breathed. Then she opened them. The library? Why- How- The searing pain of a lightsaber still rippled through her chest, but her scream caught in her throat. “Heldsworth?”

She whipped her head to the side, following the pair of dangling lekku to a kind, concerned, and somewhat familiar face. “Ahsoka Tano?” she said, disbelief leaking into every single syllable of the Togruta’s name. Ahsoka Tano left the Jedi Order after the whole debacle with Barriss Offee. What was she doing here?

Tano raised an eyebrow at her before letting out a nervous chuckle. “That’s my name. Don’t wear it out,” she met Opheia’s gaze again. “Are you okay, Heldsworth?”

“Opheia,” Opheia corrected more out of reflex than anything else. “I go by Opheia, Tano.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka smiled at her. “Call me Ahsoka then. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m-” she tentatively raised a hand to her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart. She exhaled and offered Ahsoka a smile that didn’t even remotely reach her eyes. “I’m fine.”

The young Togruta- was she always so young? She looked maybe fourteen maximum- didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyways and scooped up her holobooks before disappearing into the maze of shelves.

Opheia turned her head away to look around the library. The air and the Force were calm and gentle, holding the same steady atmosphere that it always did in the Jedi Temple. She glanced down at the datapads spread out underneath her and stacked up next to her. She’d been in this situation many times, considering her preference for books to people, but something about this felt off.

The sharp pain flared up in her chest again and she shrieked, expecting to find the blue glow of Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber emerging from her chest. But there was nothing. Nothing except for her reddish-brown robes and scarlet hair. She paused, lifting one end of her hair to inspect it. She’d cut it, not recently, but when she was sixteen, she cut it after another overzealous Clone got her long tresses caught up in the barrel of his rifle. What in all- “Opheia?” Ahsoka appeared back around the corner, the concern back on her face. She panted and Opheia wondered if she had sprinted back over here when she screamed. “What’s wrong?”

Opheia dropped her hair. “Oh um, nothing,” she gestured to a random spot on the floor. “I saw a- a- a-”

“Bug?” Ahsoka supplied.

“Yeah, right, right,” she nodded and stared down at her datapads, a blush rising to her cheeks. What was wrong with her? “Yeah, a bug.”

“Okay...” Ahsoka started to back away towards the shelves again and Opheia buried her face into her hands. Now even Ahsoka Tano, the Chosen One’s Padawan, thought she was a weirdo... Great... “Well, bye!”

“Bye,” Opheia murmured, staring down at her still too-long hair, trying to grasp the situation. Had it been a dream? A horrible nightmare? But why would she dream something like that? And that still didn’t explain why her hair was so short or why Ahsoka Tano was in the Temple, dressed in that ridiculous tube top again.

“Opheia!”

This time, a much more familiar voice called to her and her head snapped up. Master Teriata. She would know what to do. Opheia stopped halfway in standing up. But Master Teriata was off-planet. A familiar Miraluka rounded the corner, dressed in familiar brown and light green robes. Teriata’s ash blonde hair fell out of the two sloppy buns she always pulled it back into, the strands drifting in front of her turquoise eye-covering and dark skin. But Teriata hadn’t worn her green robes in years and she used a black leather covering instead of the flimsy turquoise fabric one. There was also a bandage over her skin, where her left eye would be, where her scar should be.

Teriata slapped her hands against the desk in front of Opheia and she jumped out of her confused stupor. Her Master giggled, a faint smirk on her face. “Oh, calm down, Padawan,” she said. “I’m not angry.”

Opheia blinked at her Master. She didn’t think she was angry. Teriata didn’t  _ get _ angry, not with Opheia anyways. And did she call her Padawan? Opheia reached into her hair, her hand grazing a familiar braid. She dropped it as if she’d been burned. But she was a Knight. Or had she dreamt that too? No, no, dreams don’t last that long. And she’d never had the gift of foresight. If it had been foresight. Teriata’s face softened and she sat down in the seat across from her, “There is something wrong then. That Senior Initiate mentioned there might be.”

Senior Initiate? Did she mean Ahsoka? She turned back to her Master. This was Teriata, right? She reached out with the Force ever so gently, prodding at her Master’s signature. Yes, it was. “Look,” Teriata sighed and placed her hand over Opheia’s in a habitual and comforting fashion. “I know you were probably hoping for a more well-known Master, like Obi-Wan Kenobi or even Quinlan Vos, but I think this is a good match, Opheia. I can tell it’ll be a good match. No reason to dwell on what could be.”

“What?” the word fell from Opheia’s mouth before she could stop it.

She regretted it when Teriata pulled away, a distinctly hurt expression on her face. Opheia scrambled for her wits. “No, no, sorry, Master Teriata. I’m just-” she closed her eyes and took a deep shaky breath. What the kriffing hell was going on? “Confused.”

“Oh,” Teriata’s cheeriness bounced back with ease. “Of course. I’d be confused if I were assigned to me too, you know. I’m not exactly ‘Jedi Master of the Year’ and I... Haven’t had a Padawan before, but I’m ready for this. And you, my dear Padawan, are a perfect fit. At least, Master Yoda thinks so, and well, I do too. I was never the studious type, like you, but I’m not as dumb as some of the other Jedi may lead you to believe, just a little unorthodox. I’m actually quite-”

“No, no,” Opheia stopped her Master’s long-winded speech. She was used to them, but this wasn’t right. This wasn’t what she meant. And she hadn’t doubted Teriata’s ability as a Master since she was first assigned to her, at the start of the war. “I’m not doubting your ability, Master. I’m just- I just- I...”

She drifted off, staring out the large windows to the side of her. Something wasn’t  _ right _ . She looked back at her Master, who she could no longer doubt  _ was _ her Master. “Opheia?”

She watched the string of cruisers and speeders passing by, something itching at her skull, something dancing on the tip of her tongue. Opheia shoved away from the table, her stack of datapads toppling off of the desk. She’d been here before. Maybe not in this exact situation, but she had been before. She’d seen that exact sequence of speeders before. The sharp pain flared in her chest again and she stumbled back, smacking into one of the bookshelves as she frantically felt underneath her robes for the wound that had to be there.

She  _ died _ . Anakin Skywalker killed her. But then why was she here? She didn’t feel dead. Everything felt normal. She didn’t even feel like she was mediating and the Force just felt... Like the Force. “Opheia?” Teriata repeated as she stood up slowly. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Opheia said, her hand pressed against the skin of her chest. Her heart thumped against her hand, erratic now that she’d excited it, but normal and real. She swallowed heavily. “I don’t think I am.”

Teriata looked at a loss of what to do, which wasn’t right. She knew how to deal with Opheia’s episodes. She should know what to do right now. But she wouldn’t, if she’d never experienced one before. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

She’d failed. All those children. All the Jedi. Herself. She wasn’t good enough. She wasn’t smart enough. She couldn’t save them. She couldn’t even save herself. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be dead. The pain spread, all consuming, but she gritted her teeth against it. She refused to scream for  _ him _ .

“Calm down, Opheia,” Teriata approached her cautiously. “Just calm down and talk to me.”

Opheia slid to the ground, burying her face in her knees, her hand still pressed to her chest. Thump. Thump. Thump. She shouldn’t even have a heartbeat. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t- She blacked out.

* * *

“Hey, you okay?”

Opheia jolted upright, her heart pounding in her chest, a scream caught her throat. She looked sharply over at Ahsoka Tano, who jerked away in surprise. “Sorry, Heldsworth,” she said, blinking at her. “You just kinda passed out.”

“It’s Opheia,” she said as she stared at her with wide, green eyes. “I go by Opheia. I already told you this.”

“Jeez,” Ahsoka stepped away and picked up her holobooks. “No need to be snappy. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Won’t be doing that again.”

What? The sharp pain flared up in her chest and she blacked out again.

* * *

“Hey, you okay?”

Opheia shoved away from the table and stumbled away from Ahsoka Tano. “What the hell?” she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the peaceful quiet of the library.

“Heldsworth?” Ahsoka looked at her in concern and stepped closer to her.

“Opheia!” she shouted, hysteria creeping into her voice. “I already fucking told you it was Opheia, not Heldsworth!”

“Calm down,” the Togruta raised her hands in surrender as she backed away from her. “Madame Nu!”

She collapsed.

* * *

“Hey, you okay?”

No. No. No. No. Was she stuck in some kind of loop? Was the Force trying to tell her something? She lifted her head slowly this time, letting her eyes trail over Ahsoka’s lekku and up to her bright blue eyes. The Togruta smiled softly at her, “You okay there, Heldsworth?”

“It’s Opheia,” she corrected gently before turning her gaze back to her datapads and her too long hair. “And yes, I’m fine, Tano.”

“Oh!” Ahsoka’s smile widened. “Well, you can call me Ahsoka then, kay? I’ll see you around Opheia.”

And with that, she took her books and left. Master Teriata didn’t appear this time. And Opheia was left alone in her little corner of the library. Left alone to think. What just happened? Her head pounded and she closed her eyes, letting herself drift into an impromptu mediation. The Force surrounded her, like it always did, but it seemed to hang off of her in a heavier shroud than it used to. Almost as if it was protecting her. But from what?

She imagined herself standing on a lake before she fell into the water, deeper and deeper until she stopped. A layer of ice spread out below her, preventing her from diving any deeper, but there was nothing here for her. This was the deepest she’d ever gone, but still, no answers were present. So she stomped on the ice until it splintered and then shattered underneath her. She thumped to another stop.  _ Hello? _ she called out into the vast nothingness of the Force.  _ A little help would be appreciated _ .

_ Patience _ .

She paused, searching for the source of the voice, but there was no source, only the Force.  _ I don’t understand what’s going on _ .  _ Where am I? How did I get here? Where is here? When is here? _

_ Do any of those questions really matter?  _ The voice sounded different this time, like a man’s voice had become a woman’s, but it hadn’t even been a man’s voice to begin with. Or had it been?

_ I’d like to think so, yes. _

_ Patience, Opheia _ . 

_ Patience for what though? Where am I? What’s going on?  _ she repeated the same questions again, her voice echoing around her so that she questions repeated themselves again and again and again.

_ Do you remember before? _

She jumped, the voice right next to her ear.  _ Yes _ .  _ Anakin Skywalker. He- He killed... Everyone... _

_ Not everyone _ . Now the voice sounded like it was shouting at her from miles away.  _ But he did kill many and he would kill many more. _

_ Where am I? _ she asked again.

_ The Jedi Temple, of course.  _ It was to the left of her now.

_ But everyone...  _

_ Again, not everyone.  _ To her right now.

_ I don’t understand. If I’m in the Jedi Temple, then why am I still a Padawan? Why am I so young? Why did Master Teriata act like we’d just barely met? _

_ Because all of those things are true _ , in front of her now.  _ Or they were at one point. _

_ They were? Yes, I suppose they were. But I’m dead now, aren’t I? Did you just want to show me some happy memories before I joined the Force? _

_ No _ , the voice remained in front of her.  _ It's a second chance. _

_ A second... _

_ A second chance. To make things right, however you deem fit. _

She let that sink in for several seconds before raising her head to look at where the Force voice originated from.  _ Why me? Why not someone closer to Anakin Skywalker? _

_ For that exact reason,  _ the voice drifted behind her as it spoke. _ You’ll do what has to be done. _

Her eyes widened and she whirled around to face it.  _ You don’t mean kill him, right? I couldn’t even killed him if I tried. And he was good, once. At least, I think he was. _

_ Like I said,  _ the voice was still behind her.  _ However you deem fit. _

She jerked out of her mediation to find a hand on her shoulder. Ahsoka was peering down at her and Opheia noticed for the first time that she wasn’t wearing silka beads in place of her Padawan braid. “Sorry, were you meditating?” she asked in that sweet naive way that war would wash away from her.

“Yeah...” Opheia glanced down at datapads. “I was...”

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Ahsoka looked genuinely apologetic and a little ashamed. “I just wanted to let you know that the bell sounded for lunch.”

“Oh,” Opheia turned to smile at her. “Thank you.”

The Togruta nodded once and turned to leave.  _ A second chance. _ “Ahsoka?” she called out to her and the young girl turned to face her. “If you ever want to talk to anybody, I’m here?”

She beamed at her, a bright smile that revealed her sharp fangs and lit up her blue eyes. “Would you like to accompany me to lunch?” she questioned before her smile faltered, her eyes darting to the Padawan braid in Opheia’s hair. “If you don’t mind eating with a Senior Initiate that is.”

“I don’t mind,” she pushed away from the table and walked over the girl. They were the same height, well maybe Ahsoka was a  _ bit  _ taller, which meant that Opheia was younger, probably fourteen given the fact that was the age she was when she became Teriata’s Padawan. “I could use the company.”

“Don’t you need those?” Ahsoka looked back at the datapads still behind her, filled with notes that Opheia had long since memorized.

She looked back at them, “No, I don’t think I’ll be needing those.”

And without an invitation, she looped her arm through Ahsoka’s, startling the young girl, but she didn’t pull away. She grinned down at Opheia and Opheia smiled back up at her. The look still didn’t reach her eyes. She wasn’t sure if it ever would again, but she was going to have to get better at hiding it if she planned on making anything better.

The way she deemed fit.


	3. the roots of the poisoned tree

_**["Remember what you know, learn what you don't."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCuzUmdhGtw) ** _

Opheia forced herself to look interested in Ahsoka’s less than intriguing description of her lightsaber training sessions. Her stories would grow more interesting, she knew. How could they not, when she would become the Padawan of Anakin Skywalker, the General Without Fear, the Chosen One?

Her stomach twisted at the mere thought of his name and she shoved another bite of her soup into her mouth. It seemed to be all she could stomach right now, which was a shame. It’d been years since she had something so delicious and seasoned; the war left many farms destitute, leaving even the most prestigious establishments with blander food.

She wished she could enjoy it.

While she nodded along with the Togruta’s menial blathering, utilizing the patience she gained from being the Padawan of likely the most talkative member of the Order, she formed a plan. A plan on how to fix everything, to stop the Jedi from dying.

But how was she supposed to stop something when she didn’t know the origin of the problem? You have to pull out the roots of a weed to stop it from growing.

It sounded a little heartless, but that where was Ahsoka Tano came in. From the bits and pieces of information that Opheia knew, she could deduce that Skywalker was decidedly attached to his Padawan. Opheia probably thought it wasn’t very strange because she too was close to her Master, but some said that it went beyond that. Some even said that when she made the decision to leave the Order, he chased after her.

Opheia knew that even Master Teriata would never do something like that. Prove her innocence as Skywalker did with Ahsoka? Sure? But the Miraluka wouldn’t chase after her student like some child that didn’t get what they wanted.

Was that the problem? Was Anakin Skywalker too childish and immature? How would she go about remedying that? She thought back to the brooding man she occasionally saw in the mess hall, though he always seemed more lighthearted in the company of his Padawan or Master Obi-Wan.

She didn’t know anything about him, which was the problem.

So yes, that was where Ahsoka Tano came in. From a strategic standpoint, she would gain the Togruta’s trust and friendship to place herself closer to Anakin Skywalker. Even if she never met him personally (Force, she hoped she didn’t have to meet him personally. She didn’t know if she’d be able to look at him without wanting to at _least_ punch him in the face or run away in terror; the unnatural yellow of his eyes still burned into her retinas and the phantom pain of the lightsaber still buried into her chest just thinking about him), at least she’d be able to get information about him out of Ahsoka, as well as gathering what she could from a distance.

It shouldn’t be hard, she thought as she watched the energetic fourteen year old. From what she could tell, Ahsoka didn’t have many friends, so she was likely to latch onto the first opportunity of companionship with enthusiasm. Opheia could relate to her in that way. They were both advanced for their age (Opheia more so now, being an eighteen year old trapped in her fourteen year old body), which had isolated them from their peers.

They continued to be isolated into their later years as well. Unlike Ahsoka though, Opheia chose that path for herself. She didn’t really care for any company outside of her Master and Grandmaster and occasional discussions with Master Yoda.

That would have to change, she realized, and her anxiety spiked at the mere thought of it. Ahsoka faltered in her words and raised an eye-marking at her, “You okay?”

Heat crawled into Opheia’s face as she ducked her head, stirring her soup lazily. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice soft. She raised her shields a little higher. She hadn’t even realized they were so weak, a remnant of her pre-trained abilities.

Ahsoka remained oblivious, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she lifted her head and smiled at her.

A moment of awkward silence passed between them as Ahsoka took another bite of her sandwich and Opheia sipped at her soup. “You don’t have any friends, do you?”

She choked on the liquid and, coughing, reached for her glass of water. “Sorry!” Ahsoka hurriedly rounded around the table to pat her on the back. When Opheia calmed down, she sat down next to her and dragged her tray in front of her. She laughed nervously. “Sorry, that was a little rude.”

“No, it’s fine,” Opheia chugged down the rest of her water. “Just caught me off guard. No, I don’t have any friends.”

Ahsoka idly played with the straw of her own drink. It was kinda cute that she was still using a straw at all. “Me either,” she admitted, her voice soft. “The other Initiates think I’m too... precocious.”

Opheia snorted and the Togruta looked at her in surprise. “Sorry,” the human girl giggled. “I just wasn’t expecting that specific word.”

“What did you think I was going to say?” she prodded her arm. “A bitch?”

“Ahsoka!” Opheia exclaimed. “Language.”

She rolled her eyes with a laugh before taking a sip of her water. “Oh please, there’s not Masters around right now,” she glanced over at her, lips pursed in a slightly curious expression.

“What?”

“You’re Master Teriata’s Padawan, right?”

Opheia resisted the urge to laugh at Ahsoka’s awkward tentativeness when she mentioned Teriata’s name. Her Master had a reputation that preceded her, which meant that Opheia herself shared that reputation, which wasn’t nearly as glowing as Skywalker’s. It wasn’t that the Miraluka was a bad Jedi. If anything, she was quite a good one. She just tended to be a little more unorthodox than the other Jedi. “Too flirty” some would say or “too talkative” or “too affectionate”.  

Unfortunately, in the eyes of the Order, personality tended to overshadow from a person’s abilities. Nobody ever talked about how her Master had been a Shadow for most of her young Jedi life or her skills in subterfuge and espionage. What she lacked in lightsaber combat, she made up for in hand-to-hand skills.

“Yes,” she said with a fond smile on her face. “I am Master Teriata’s Padawan.”

Ahsoka seemed a little surprised by her positive reaction to the question and she shifted awkwardly in her seat. “What’s she like?”

“She’s amazing,” Opheia said without thinking. “The best Master I could’ve asked for. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been assigned a Master,” Ahsoka said slowly, as if she didn’t know if she should be tell Opheia this. In response, the human offered her what she hoped was an encouraging smile. Ahsoka smiled shyly. “It’s Anakin Skywalker.”

Opheia had the good sense to act surprised and a little excited. She grinned at her, a false, but convincing giddy giggle rising to her lips. “Really? You must be excited.”

“I’m a little nervous,” she replied with a sigh before raising her eyes to Opheia’s. “I mean, what if he doesn’t like me? What if he doesn’t want someone like me to be his Padawan?”

Opheia blinked. She wasn’t expecting this from the young Togruta. Ahsoka always carried herself with a confidence she could only hope to achieve one day. Even in her Trial (which Opheia had watched the holos for upon Teriata’s request; she’d wanted Opheia to look for the signs of lying versus the signs of honesty), she’d been extraordinarily self-assured.

She reached out and placed her hands on her shoulders. Ahsoka’s eye-markings raised in surprise, but Opheia didn’t move away. “Anakin Skywalker will be lucky to have you as his Padawan,” she said, which she knew was true.

Everyone knew the stories of their exploits together, their bond, their mutual respect. It was no secret that they were possibly one of the best Master and Padawan duos in the Order, after perhaps Skywalker and Master Kenobi.

“You really think so?” Ahsoka asked in a quiet, child-like voice and Opheia’s heart broke.

They were still children right now. At this point in her life, Opheia had been just as naive and innocent as the girl in front of her. That had been before they saw the truth of war, before they witnessed the deaths of people they knew, people they admired and followed. Before they were expected to grow up too fast.

And they had. They adapted or they died. And even after all of that, they still ended up dead. “Yeah,” she said and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I do.”

* * *

Opheia stared at herself in the mirror. She was so _young_. Her hair was long, past her underdeveloped breasts and down her back. And while her robes were still the reddish-brown she favored, they leaned more towards the traditional Jedi robes than they had at the time of her death. And she only had one lightsaber, a fact she’d have to remedy as soon as possible.

Heh. Most people thought when she picked up Jar’kai that she’d been imitating Ahsoka, trying to be more like the oh-so-famous Padawan. That wasn’t the case, of course, but since Opheia planned on talking to her Master about it as soon as possible, she was more than happy to avoid that piece of ridicule.

But for now, she needed to remedy this hair situation. It was too heavy and when she’d practiced a few basic forms earlier, she was almost shocked by how much it threw her off balance even when she pulled it into a bun.

She had to admit though, she looked younger with longer hair. In another lifetime, in another situation, she would’ve clung to the chance to relive her childhood to the fullest extent.

This was not that lifetime.

With a sigh, she pinned her already shorter braid to the top of her head and gathered the rest of her vibrant tresses into a single handful. She ignited her lightsaber (it was her green one, she noted, her blue one’s crystal still awaiting her on Ilum) and held it up to the hair. Even from this proximity, she stench of burning hair filled her nostrils. She could be reasonable about this and go to the hairdresser, but...

She shook her head ever so slightly. When she cut her hair in her past lifetime, Teriata had done it while she panicked about her hair being caught up in a clone’s rifle. It had been comical, looking back on it, a small moment between the two of them that she’d never be able to get back. It only seemed right to honor her past self like this, a symbolic way to sever herself from the child she would never be again.

The lightsaber sliced through the tresses cleanly as she dropped the rest of the hair into the sink. She deactivated her saber, leaning heavily against the counter. She stared at herself in the mirror, already acutely aware of how much older she looked. How much more mature. How much more haunted. The weight of her hair was gone, but another, much heavier burden plagued her.

As she fixed the awkward pieces with a pair of scissors, tears slid down her freckled cheeks, silent sobs racking her body. When she was done, she slid to the floor, buried her face in her knees, and cried.

She gathered her wits as quickly as she could, knowing that Teriata could return from her meditation at any moment, and gathered up the hair to throw down the trash chute.

She emerged from the refresher after a long shower (which led to more crying), looking as if nothing was wrong. The door to the apartment she shared with her Master slid open, revealing a tired-looking Teriata. “Hello,” the Miraluka waved to her student before walking past her into the kitchenette, undoubtedly to make some tea. “How was-”

Teriata slowed to a stop and turned around. Opheia could feel her Master’s shock as she strode over to her, picking up the ends of her Padawan’s hair. “What happened to your _hair_?” she exclaimed. She tilted Opheia’s head this way and that, feeling the extent of her new hairstyle, her lips parted in a small “o”.

Opheia tried to stop the giddy smile that crossed her features at Teriata’s surprise, knowing that she had been uncomfortable with Teriata’s affections at first, in her past life. But she couldn’t. She was just happy to see her Master, alive and well and still Teriata. She shrugged, but a giggle escaped her, “I’m a Padawan now. Thought I could use a change.”

“This is a pretty big change,” Teriata dropped her hands onto Opheia’s shoulder, a warm smile spreading across her face. Opheia’s heart swelled. “Well, does it look good? Who are you trying to impress?”

“Nobody, Master,” Opheia playfully shoved her before freezing. She wasn’t supposed to be so familiar with Teriata yet. They hadn’t developed that kind of bond yet.

But her Master’s smile just grew until a yawn escaped her. She sucked in another one and turned back to the kitchenette, “Sorry. Long day training Initiates. Why doesn’t anyone understand the basic concept of flattery?”

Ah yes, she’d almost forgotten. Teriata trained Initiates until the Council decided they needed her skills in infiltration. Before they received their first mission in tracking down a spy within the Republic military. Force, if Ahsoka hadn’t even met Anakin Skywalker yet, then that was _months_ away. That was good though. It gave her time to prepare. “Here, Master,” she stepped around Teriata and stopped her from entering the small cabineted area. “Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll make you some tea?”

Teriata raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t protest. “It’s the Deychin tea.”

Opheia bit down the “I know” that attempted to rise to her lips as she reached for the wooden box. She waited until the kettle was boiling and Teriata was seated on the couch to begin talking. “I was thinking,” she said.

“Is that a good thing?” Teriata questioned with a snarky grin.

“Yes,” Opheia rolled her eyes, trying to seem offended, but failing miserably. “I was thinking that I want to pick up jar’kai. Well, not pick it up so much as start using it primarily. I’ve been practicing on my own for several months.”

Her Master leaned back in her chair, genuinely surprised and a little impressed. “Really, Padawan?”

She prayed that Teriata didn’t see through her lie. How else would she explain her skill in the form? “Yes.”

“Well-”

The pot squealed, cutting her off and Opheia expertly poured it into two ceramic cups. She passed Teriata a plain cup while she added some honey to her own. “Honey, hmm?” her Master blew on the steaming drink. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the sweet type.”

This was their first time drinking tea together then. She repressed a sigh. Even that memory was being stripped away from her and her Master. She sat down across from her, “I actually like most sweets. Can’t stand spicy things.”

“Interesting,” she smiled at her Padawan. “How’d you know I like mine plain?”

Shit. Opheia blew on her own drink in order to delay her answer. She could just tell her the truth. No, they weren’t close enough yet that Teriata would believe her. She’d tell her one day, maybe, but not now. “I’ve been watching you make it,” she decided to say. “Thought I would surprise you.”

A long tense moment passed, a frown set on Teriata’s face as Opheia attempted to quell her mounting anxiety. Then, she beamed at her. “Brilliant,” she said before she took of her tea. “Master Yoda was right. This is going to be a perfect match. You’re just as observant as I hoped you would be.”

Opheia didn’t bother mentioning that she hadn’t always been observant. Things used to fly over her head all the time. It was her Master that taught her about body language and double-meanings, how to look for the little things. “Anyways,” her Master set her drink down. “Jar’kai, you said? And you’ve been practicing it on your own?”

“Yes,” she bit her lip and tried to appear nervous, shifting in her seat. “I hope that’s okay.”

She knew it would be.

“Of course it is! Independent study is more important than you might think. And yes, I think it might be a good fit for you to make up for your smaller stature.”

Opheia tried not to be offended. Yes, she was short and she knew she wasn’t going to get any taller either, but that didn’t mean she liked when people mentioned it. Teriata giggled at her reaction. “So I _can_ get a rise out of you,” she took a long, thoughtful sip of her drink. “I’m serious though. A second blade can make up for quite a lot and with your preliminary acrobatic skills, I could see jar’kai being very effective.”

It was, more than she realized. She raised her cup to her lips, a small smile on her face, “Thank y-”

“But I want to spar with you first.”

Opheia stopped, paralyzed, and sucked in a sharp breath. Spar with her? She was hoping to avoid any combat situations for a little while longer while she could pretend to train. How was she supposed to dumb down nearly four years of experience when she couldn’t even remember where she had been at this point in her life. “Calm down,” Teriata smiled softly at her, her voice gentle. “I just want to see where you’re at so we can move forward from there.”

“Right,” she forced herself to say and chugged down the rest of her scorching hot tea. “Of course.”

Teriata finished off her own cup, “Right then. Tomorrow, at 1300 hours?”

“Tomorrow?” Opheia hated how small her voice sounded, how uncertain she was. She could always throw in the towel, she supposed, but Teriata would definitely notice if she did and it was hard to unlearn skills, even if she just pretended to. Plus, this was her Master she was talking about. The Jedi Master with the unorthodox teaching methods.

“Yup. And you better try your hardest,” Teriata’s lips lifted into a half-smirk. “Because I’m not going easy on you.”

No, she wouldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently looking for a beta. If you are interested, shoot me a message on my Tumblr: https://felilla.tumblr.com/
> 
> I hope ya'll enjoying this so far. I'm working super hard on it. ^.^


	4. undreamt

She didn’t end up sleeping at all. Exhaustion hung over her like a heavy cloud, but each time she closed her eyes, another Jedi died. A Master. A Youngling. A Knight. A Padawan. Each death weighed heavily on her until she crawled out of her bed and sat down at her desk with a stack of datapads.

And she wrote.

She used a code she and Master Teriata developed after their first mission together. She would teach it to her Master later, when the Miraluka trusted her enough to believe her story. She wrote as much as she could remember, every detail of the war, every memory that rose to the surface, anything and everything of her past life.

She wasn’t even remotely close to finishing when the dawn peeked through her curtains and the Temple began to stir. A yawn slipped from her lips as she shoved away from the table, hungry, exhausted, and still no closer to being ready to close her eyes, which was fine by her. It would make her slower in her spar, especially considering the fact that _this_ body wasn’t used to staying awake so long. She would just stay up as long as she could and pray that she crashed into a mild dreamless coma.

Teriata was still asleep when she finished dressing after a quick shower. Her signature didn’t stir when she slipped out of the apartment and Opheia didn’t expect her to; her Master was a heavy sleeper at the best of times.

Opheia was, however, surprised to find Ahsoka waiting outside her door, her fist raised as if she intended to knock. A bright blush spread across the Togruta’s face when she jumped back. “Oh! Good morning, Opheia.”

“Good morning, Ahsoka,” the redhead greeted as she closed the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”

Ahsoka shifted and dropped her gaze to the ground, dragging her toe across the carpet lazily. “I wanted to see if you would like to accompany me to breakfast before my classes?”

Opheia peered at her, but a yawn escaped her before she could interrogate her further. The Togruta squinted, “Force, Phey, did you get any sleep at all?”

Phey? Were they already on a nickname basis then? What would she call Ahsoka. Ah? ‘Oka? ‘Ka? ‘Soka? Yeah, that one sounded kind of normal. “Not really, ‘Soka,” she said and the young girl beamed at her before trying to smother it with a serious expression.

“Why not?” she crossed her arms over her chest. Her frown was manufactured to make her look older and wiser. It wasn’t a look Opheia like on the young Togruta, so she poked her nose, earning a small, confused stutter.

Content, Opheia stepped back, “I was too worried about my spar with my Master later today.”

“You’re going to spar with Master Teriata?” her big blue eyes widened into fathomless saucers. “This soon into your apprenticeship?”

The two started to make their way towards the mess hall and Opheia raised her arms above her head, cracking the bones in her shoulders. Ahsoka winced. “I mentioned that I’ve been studying jar’kai on my own and she wants to see how far along I am before officially instructing me in it,” Opheia explained, recycling the lie she told her master. It shouldn’t have been too hard to believe. Opheia kept to herself for the most part, especially when she was younger, so her private time had always been largely ignored by the general populace of the Order.

“You’ve been studying jar’kai on your own?” Ahsoka marvelled at her as they rounded the corner.

“Yeah-” Opheia halted, her words dying on her lips as she stared at the familiar hallway. She suddenly felt very lightheaded and the taste of smoke and ash clung to her tongue, the miasma of burning flesh invading her nose.

Ahsoka continued on for a few steps until she realized the human had stopped moving. She turned around to face Opheia with a raised eye-marking, but she wasn’t looking at her. Her focus was on the marble staircase and the distant crying from the nursery. She stepped back involuntarily, body trembling, the source of her fear a remnant, but the terror still very much alive. “Opheia?” Ahsoka walked back over to her. “Are you okay?”

She looked at the Togruta with wide eyes and sucked in a shaky inhale. “Um,” she swallowed, her saliva like tar sliding down her throat. “Can we- Um...”

There was no way Ahsoka could know why she wanted to avoid this particular passage, but she still nodded and looped her arm through Opheia’s, pivoting them around. “Let’s go the other way, okay?”

It wasn’t until they were nearly to the cafeteria that Opheia managed to mutter a quiet, whispered thanks.

* * *

The Temple library always held a calming and welcoming energy that swirled around the Jedi, exciting their thirst for knowledge and wisdom, but all Opheia could see was Jocasta Nu’s corpse on the ground. She avoided the woman when she entered the Archives, afraid that she might burst into tears at the sight of her or _worse_ , scoop her into a hug. Either would be inappropriate, so she snuck past the librarian and disappeared deep into the cavernous chamber.

She gathered everything she could about the Clone Wars, the battles that had already happened, and delved deeper into the room, Teriata’s access code bursting at her mind. She needed to find as much as she could about Anakin Skywalker in particular.

Being the apprentice of one of the Order’s forefronts in infiltration had its perks and a larger pool of knowledge to pull from was one of them. She allowed herself to get lost in the information, a familiar and easy practice as she transcribed everything she could find into her code. He was born a slave. Brought into the Order at the age of nine. All information she was already familiar with. Information everyone in the Order, young and old, was familiar with.

Padme Amidala appeared more than a few times. First during the crisis of Naboo, during which Skywalker had been found, and later when he acted as her bodyguard. She didn’t know much about the Senator, only that she was a strong advocate for democracy and a renowned beauty. She flipped through some articles about Amidala idly. “Is your research treating you well?”

Opheia jumped and switched out of the new article she’d been reading as Madame Nu approached her. The elderly woman smiled softly at her. “Hello, Padawan Heldsworth.”

Hearing the old librarian call her that was a surreal experience. She discreetly turned off her datapad, “I’m actually thinking of going by my first name, Madame Nu,” she said. “Like my Master.”

Nu laughed before she glided closer, a graceful human figure in her element among the tomes of the Archives. “I see my former Padawan is already influencing your decisions, young one.”

Opheia smiled faintly at her, “Yes, I believe she is.”

Or rather, she did, when Opheia started using her given name, nearly a year into their apprenticeship. Surnames were dangerous for spies like them, even ones that didn’t have the inherent familial connections of most. “Teriata mentioned something about a spar later today?”

Opheia cast a glance over to the chrono on the wall. It was nearly 1100. Oh, how time flew in the Archives. “Yes,” she nodded.

“Something about jar’kai?” Nu smiled. “You never mentioned it to me before, young one.”

No, she wouldn’t have. She spent much time in the Archives as a youngling, finding comfort in the environment and in the presence of Nu herself, spending hours discussing topic after topic with the elder in her off-time. She’d even entertained the idea of being apprenticed to the librarian at one point in time. Even when war was declared, she clung to the thought for a few weeks until she realized that would never happen. She couldn’t avoid battle in this new war-ridden world, where Padawans became nothing more than cannon fodder.

“Independent study,” she answered. “I wasn’t sure about it before. I am now.”

Because she was more adept at it than the other forms. Sure, she could fully adopt the Trakata style of her Master, activating and deactivating her blade in the heat of combat, combining acrobats with deception. Or she could focus on the more physical hand-to-hand techniques Teriata relied on, but over her years as a jar’kai wielder, she’d developed her own distinct style, blending Teriata’s deceiving Trakata with the aggressive Ataru.

But Madame Nu had no way of knowing that. No one did. At this point, Opheia would have just been an advanced student still seeking her style in the world of lightsaber combat.

“Are you truly sure, young one? Jar’kai is not so easy to learn, nor is it a style to study on a whim. It must be respected and, indeed, mastered.”

Opheia stared down at her single lightsaber on her belt. The crystal sang to her, but the sound was disharmonious in a way she’d never noticed before. It could sing without its partner, but it could not chorus in the beautiful way it had when it wasn’t alone. She raised her gaze back to Madame Nu’s face, which softened at the pure determination in her expression. “I am sure.”

* * *

Ahsoka greeted her in the middle of her lunch and Opheia wondered if the girl was determined to become her puppy, following her around blindly until she was shipped of to Christophsis to meet Anakin Skywalker. Even so, she couldn’t deny that the Togruta’s bubbly and warm presence in the Force eased some of the tension in her shoulders, if only a little. “Do you intend to watch the spar, Ahsoka?” she questioned as they walked towards the training rooms, which would be all but abandoned at this time of the day.

“I’ve always wanted to see jar’kai in combat,” she admitted, sounding more than a little giddy at the prospect.

“I’m not a master,” Opheia reminded her, the lie flowing off of her tongue with ease. And it was a lie; her mastery of the form was one of the combining factors in her Knighthood.

She wondered if Ahsoka too, would’ve been Knighted with the same credentials if she’d remained with the Order into its last days. There had even been rumors that if she returned to the Order after her acquittal, she would’ve been Knighted immediately at the age of seventeen, making her the youngest Jedi to ever be Knighted. She had seen the girl duel several times, so the prospect did not surprise her. If there was one thing Anakin Skywalker did correctly, it was the tutelage of his Padawan.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not a master,” Ahsoka replied, a light skip to her step. Would Opheia notice the changes in her as war altered the way she walked and talked and just generally existed? “I just want to see it. I’ve always thought it looked super cool.”

Perhaps she could contribute to keeping that bounce in the Togruta’s gait.

“Maybe you’ll pick it up one day,” Opheia said with a warm smile.

“I doubt it,” she waved off the human’s words, but unlike her, Opheia knew the outcome of this. She knew that once Ahsoka Tano had two blades in her hand, there would be no other way to view her.

They reached the training room, a large circular chamber divided into different areas for different practices. Master Teriata was already waiting for her in one of the sections quartered off for sparring. Some of the Younglings were gaping at her instead of paying attention to their lessons. It made sense. While she was generally scorned by those old enough to understand the Jedi teachings and the way the Code worked, she was admired by the children that only knew her as the mysterious Miraluka Shadow.

They were in for a treat, it seemed.

Opheia was, however, surprised to find that he stretching Master was holding a discussion with a seated Master Yoda. The small green Master turned as she entered the room, Ahsoka next to her. He blinked at her slowly, an expression she’d never seen dawning on his face. It disappeared just as quickly, replaced with a mischievous twinkle that the next three years would whittle away, little by little.

“Hello, Masters,” the two girls greeted, offering respectful bows to them.

“Hello, Opheia!” Teriata greeted with a bright smile. “And friend? Who are you, young one?”

Ahsoka squeaked and shot Opheia a startled look before she bowed again, “Senior Initiate Ahsoka Tano, Master Teriata.”

“Soon to be a Padawan, she is,” Master Yoda said with a warm, proud look all of the Younglings in the Temple were familiar with. Had Yoda died as well? She had yet to see any flashes of his demise, if he did.

Yoda turned to Opheia, a strange glint in his eye. “Been practicing jar’kai on your own, you have?” he questioned.

She blinked at him, “Y-yes, Master.”

He squinted at her ever so slightly and she strengthened her shields as much as she possibly could. She still felt like he could see through her as if she was glass. But his face softened and he tapped his gimmer stick against the ground, the sound echoing throughout the room. A hush fell over the training room and Opheia’s anxiety spiked. She had not been expecting this when she agreed to a spar against her Master.

“And we will watch, come,” he gestured to Ahsoka and slowly made his way over to the stand of bleachers used mostly for rest.

Opheia blinked as several younglings packed into the stands, as well as some Knights and Padawans. Most left the room though, leaving the area empty for Teriata to spar against her Padawan. Opheia glanced over at Yoda and Ahsoka, catching the training lightsaber that her Master threw at her without looking. Teriata’s surprise echoed through their bond. Shit. She’d already messed up. Teriata hadn’t taught her how to use Force Sight yet, an ability that Opheia was as familiar with as any Miraluka.

If she went blind tomorrow, not much would change.

“Ready, Padawan?” Teriata questioned with a chipper lilt in her words. She was _excited_ , Opheia realized. Excited to see what her Padawan was made of and excited to teach her what she didn’t know.

Opheia would never stop needing Teriata. She accepted that long ago, but whatever the Miraluka meant to teach her in her apprenticeship, she already knew. Teriata’s development as a teacher was hindered now. It would take on a different path now and Opheia prayed that it would end with the same confident, wise Master as her first lifetime.

“Yes, Master.”

They offered their formal bows, Teriata’s with her single saber gripped in both hands and Opheia with one in each hand, and straightened. The rules of spars like this were simple. All they had to was disarm their opponent. In a spar like this, Opheia would typically be considered the one with the advantage, having two blades instead of one. But, in a spar like this, Opheia was only supposed to be a Padawan. Teriata lurched forward with her deactivated weapon and suddenly, this wasn’t just a spar anymore.

The Temple melted away and her Master was replaced with a sinister, twisted version of herself. Instinct took over as Opheia jerked away from Teriata and danced around her. She held her sabers behind her back, a center of balance as she bobbed and weaved around her teacher’s movements. Something clung to Opheia, a dark myriad of emotions that she didn’t like. She shoved them away and focused on the monster in front of her. The monster that had been her Master.

Teriata’s lightsaber would switch on, only to be met with one or both of Opheia’s. She would duck away, lightsaber off again, only to try a different angle. Opheia had an advantage in knowing the exact extent of her Master’s blade, knowing how far to move away from it or how close she had to get to meet the blind spot.

And then Teriata switched on her weapon with a definitive grunt that Opheia was all too familiar with. Blind panic dug its claws into Opheia as the tentative battle of dodges and vanishing blades quickly became an aggressive duel of plasma and rapid maneuvering.

Teriata swung her blade towards her and Opheia expertly somersaulted back away from it. She flung it down towards her head, only to have her strike met with two blades. Two blades held by a pair of steady, too professional hands.

More than once, Opheia adjusted her grip, switching her _shoto_ and her main blade between her hands in quick succession to adapt to the situation. She flipped away with grace. She cartwheeled with ease. She stopped what would be blows to her back with dexterity and flexibility.

The monster that had been her Master fought back with the same level of skill, but she always lacked in lightsaber combat.

Opheia spun and caught Teriata’s blade in between both of hers and in a maneuver reminiscent of a blaster disarming, she twisted her lightsabers. Her Master’s wrist turned with her blade before quickly snapping it to the other side, a crack resonating from the obviously fractured bones.

But the effect worked. Opheia’s blades were ripped from her hands and the weapons were sent skittering to the other side of the chamber. She turned to the monster as a snarled grin crawled onto Teriata’s sweet face. Her body tensed and she prepared to tackle the evil version of her Master when the scenery faded.

The Temple was back. They were back in the Temple. This was just supposed to be a spar. A heavy air of shock and surprise hung in the air and Opheia stiffened as she stared down at her Master. Teriata was nursing her broken wrist with a bright grin was spread across her face. “That was incredible, Opheia! You caught me completely off guard."

Teriata was right. She'd caught her off guard. She wasn't expecting a new Padawan with the skill of a new Knight. But even if she wasn't prepared for something like that and even though she wasn't the best lightsaber combatant in the Order, it was still obvious that Opheia was more skilled than she should've been.

Everyone in the stands seemed to agree, from the beaming Ahsoka to the stunned Younglings. Everyone except Master Yoda, likely the only one in the room that knew where her skill she should be. He regarded her with suspicion. He regarded her with trepidation. He regarded her with a deep-seeded concern that she’d only seen on his face once before.

On the day she died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. I'm off-schedule, but my muse struck so... Whatcha gonna do?


	5. padawan heldsworth

She awoke in the medbay with an IV buried in her arm and a spinning head. Exhaustion had finally caught up to her, it seemed. She sighed and buried half of her face into her pillow, staring out over the rest of the bay as they attended to everyone. She considered becoming a Healer at one point, but Master Yoda said she didn’t have the correct skill set for that. Speaking of the little green Master...

“Hello,” she rolled over to look at him, forcing herself into a sitting position.

Yoda hobbled over, his gimmer stick clicking against the ground as he squinted at her. She watched him, fear and anxiety masked behind an impassive face. “Young Opheia Heldsworth, you are not,” he said when he reached her bedside.

She sighed and stared down at her hands. They were still calloused, but not war-calloused, and the small scar on her wrist was gone entirely. She could probably avoid getting it now. She inclined her head towards him without looking at him, “I’m afraid not, Master.”

“Still Opheia Heldsworth, you are?”

A hysterical laugh bubbled in her chest, but she swallowed it down. Now was not the time for hysterics. “Yes,” she finally met his gaze. He seemed suspicious, yes, but also fascinated. “Just not so young.”

“Understood, I do not.”

“No,” she shook her head with a sad smile. No one ever would. Not completely. “I wouldn’t expect you to. I don’t understand it fully.”

He pondered this for several seconds before meeting her gaze, “A vision, you had?”

“Of sorts,” she raised her shoulders into a half-shrug. That seemed to be the easiest way to explain it. She pursed her lips. How much should she divulge to him? He was the Grandmaster of the Order. If anyone was to be trusted, it was Yoda, but she also trusted Anakin Skywalker (to an extent) and- The dull ache radiated in her chest and her heart monitor spiked minisculely. She gasped, planting her hand over her chest. It thumped steadily. Right. She was still alive.

“Padawan Heldsworth?”

“Opheia,” she said. She hated having to establish this again; something that was so ingrained in her, something that established what kind of Jedi she was. “I’m going by Opheia, Master Yoda.”

Yoda eyed her and she tried not to squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. “Gone, is Padawan Heldsworth?”

She never really thought about it that way before, but yes, Padawan Heldsworth was gone, replaced by Knight Opheia. Her past life was dead; her childhood (or her skewed version of a childhood) was gone. Forever. She looked down at Yoda, wondered if he survived the massacre. She’d seen so many deaths. Deaths of Jedi off-planet. Madame Nu. Master Plo Koon. Master Aayla Secura. Even Master Windu, killed by Anakin Skywalker himself.

And her own death. It played in her mind on repeat like a broken holo. Over and over again. The Younglings. The nursery. Everyone she failed. She had yet to see Teriata’s death and she was grateful for that. She didn’t know how she’d be able to handle the death of her Master, a strange unorthodox Jedi that Opheia considered a mother and a sister in all aspects of the word.

“Yes,” she finally said, much later than she should’ve. “I am Jedi Knight Opheia.”

“Knight Opheia,” Yoda mused as he walked around her bed towards the entrance to her cubicle. “On this, I must meditate.”

“Master,” she said before he made it out. She swallowed. “I’m here to help. To save lives.”

He glanced back at her, his eyes twinkling familiarly as he smiled at her, “Of that, no doubt, I have.”

And then he left her alone. She turned to stare out of the windows to the side of the medbay. There was still so much she didn’t know. So much she didn’t understand. Why did Anakin Skywalker fall? She brought her arms to her body to hug herself. “What’re you staring at?”

Opheia turned to find Ahsoka hovering at the entrance, an awkward tilt to her body language. She smiled warmly at her, “Just thinking. What happened?”

“You passed out after your spar with Master Teriata,” she bobbed back and forth. “You scared me, Phey.”

“Sorry,” she chuckled with a shake of her head. “I guess I got a little carried away.”

“It was incredible though!” Ahsoka said as she finally stepped into the room. “I didn’t realize you were so advanced.”

“I’m not that-”

“No,” she lifted up a hand and cut her off. Her blue eyes shimmered with something Opheia couldn’t quite place. “You’re not allowed to be humble after that.”

Opheia laughed, rolling her eyes. “Aren’t Jedi supposed to be humble, ‘Soka?”

“Not falsely humble.”

“Fine,” she looked away, back to the windows. Back to Coruscant. The sun was in a different position than before. How long did she spend in her own head? What happened to the city with the Jedi gone? Her smile faded into a frown before she looked back over at her companion... Her friend? “Whatever you say.”

Ahsoka’s eye-markings furrowed in concern, “You okay?”

She shook her head minisculely. “Yeah, sorry, just lost in thought,” she tilted her head when something swinging from Ahsoka’s head caught her attention. Her eyes widened. “Your Padawan beads!”

A bright blush spread across Ahsoka’s features, her lekku deepening into a darker blue. She ran her fingers over one of them absently, like how Opheia sometimes threaded her fingers through her hair. “Yeah,” she giggled, shifting away from Opheia ever so slightly. “Master Yoda’s sending me to Christophsis to meet Master Skywalker.”

The name sounded like scraping steel coming from the Padawan’s mouth. Opheia gritted her teeth against the full-body flinch threatening to take her over. Instead, she smiled, “I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you,” Ahsoka bounced with a bright grin before it faltered ever so slightly. “I’ll see you when I get back?”

Opheia thought back to her first mission with her Master, still a few months away. She couldn’t remember when Ahsoka returned to Coruscant. Or rather, she didn’t know. She never had any reason  _ to _ know. “Possibly,” she finally said. “I suspect Master Teriata and I will be going on our first mission sometime in the near future.”

Ahsoka’s lips formed a childish pout before she nodded, “Yeah, probably. We’ll see each other eventually, right?”

She studied the Togruta, her hopeful expression, the way she toed the ground like a child waiting to be praised or rewarded, and smiled. “Yeah, of course. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Ahsoka looked up sharply, her smile brightening, “Really, friends?”

“Yeah,” she grinned at her. “Of course.”

And she felt like it was true. She kind of regretted never befriending Ahsoka before now. She was such a sweet girl; Padawan Heldsworth could’ve used a friend like her. “Well,” Ahsoka’s smile never faltered. “I’ve got a ship to catch, but I’ll see you around, okay?”

She lifted her hand in a wave, but Opheia stopped her. “If I’m here when you get back, let’s meet at the Parks, okay?”

She didn’t know it was possible. But Ahsoka’s smile grew even larger.

* * *

 

“That was very reckless.” Teriata’s voice carried through their shared apartment, not quite a shout, but not a quiet reprimanding either. “You need your rest, Opheia. You need to take care of your body,  _ especially _ here in the Temple, where you have that luxury and- Are you even- Opheia, are you crying?”

Opheia scrubbed at her eyes as she shook her head. No. She was most definitely  _ not _ crying. But it felt so  _ good _ . It felt so right and normal and  _ good _ to have Teriata scolding her. She couldn’t help it. Her Master knelt in front of her when she was seated on the couch. “Hey now, don’t cry. I’m not angry, Opheia.”

“No,” she shook her head again, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being ri-”

“Nonsense.” Force, even being cut off by her made happiness bloom in Opheia’s chest. “Crying is not ridiculous. It’s healthy and it’s better than keeping your emotions cooped up inside. What’s wrong, young one?”

Her hand hovered over Opheia’s hair, like she didn’t want to overstep her boundaries before she brought it down, swiping a stray strand away from her face. Opheia was coming apart at the seams. She just wanted to tell her Master everything right now. Blurt the whole future to her and let Teriata shoulder some of the burden. But she wouldn’t believe her. She didn’t even explain everything to Master Yoda in great detail. She finally looked up at her Master and though Teriata’s face was turned slightly to the right of Opheia’s body, she knew that she was looking at  _ her _ , through the Force.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “I was having... Nightmares...”

Teriata fell back, her hand still lightly petting Opheia’s hair. The effect was more calming than Opheia wanted to admit. “Nightmares?” she repeated.

“Yes. Horrible, terrible nightmares,” she said.

“About what?” her Master asked in a soft voice.

“Death,” the word fell from her mouth like ash and gravel, carrying a disgusting, crashing weight with it. A sort of finality. She was done dancing around the topic.

Teriata pursed her lips together in thought. “Whose death?”

She already knew the answer. The bond between them wasn’t as strong as it once was, but she still knew. Opheia said it in a soft, almost nonexistent voice. “Mine.”

“You are not dead, my Padawan,” she said, placing her other hand over Opheia’s in a silently comforting manner.

No. She wasn’t. But she wasn’t alive either. Not in the traditional sense of the word. She placed her hand over Teriata’s and closed her eyes with a sigh. Her Master smiled at her softly. “This too shall pass, my Padawan,” she brushed a few more stray hairs out of her face. “This too shall pass.”

Except it wouldn’t. Not as long as the threat of what Anakin Skywalker would become loomed in the distance. Not as long as her life ended with her body on the marble steps of the Temple. No, this wouldn’t pass until she saved everyone. Until she saved every last Jedi and innocent that would die in the next four years.

This wouldn’t pass until she knew the reason why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, though that's the price for two updates in a week. ^.^' Anyways, follow me on Tumblr at
> 
> [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/)
> 
> for updates, my update schedule, and links to all my social media junk. :P


	6. hearing all that is left unsaid

She woke up screaming. She always woke up screaming, clawing at her chest as she searched for something her Master could not see. A monster she could not fight.

Teriata had taken to sleeping on the couch in their living room to shorten the distance between herself and her Padawan. It wasn’t as comfortable as the bed in her room, but she’d slept in worse positions and for longer periods of time. It didn’t matter to her as long as Opheia had the comfort she needed.

She always clung to her Master as tears streamed down her face, as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until the sedatives Teriata injected her with finally kicked in. She never gave them to her before she went to bed because maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t need them this time. Maybe this time, she would sleep through the night.

It’d been three weeks since their duel, two months since she took Opheia on as her Padawan. She hadn’t expected this amount of stress when her former Master suggested the young girl as a candidate, but she saw her in the library, her tongue poking out as she stared down at a datapad and she just  _ knew _ that Opheia Heldsworth was destined to be her Padawan.

She didn’t doubt that even now. When Opheia apologized for keeping her up, she waved away her concerns. When she said she was being a burden, she asked her to make them some tea. Most Masters probably would’ve handed their Padawans off to the Council by this point, claiming that they were too emotionally unstable, but Teriata couldn’t bear the thought of doing something so... Apathetic.

Something was troubling her Padawan. She often disappeared to talk with Master Yoda or go to the library and wouldn’t return until Teriata was about to turn in for the night. Something was hurting Opheia in a way Teriata couldn’t comprehend, but she was determined to be understanding and compassionate about it.

And visions of death, especially your own, were never easy. Teriata remembered the nights she spent tossing and turning before her Grandmaster died. He’d passed on from old age, yes, but it still haunted her. So she was patient. Teriata wasn’t the greatest Jedi in the world, but she could be patient for Opheia.

And it was rewarding. Oh Force was it rewarding. In just a couple short months, she’d seen a glimpse of her Padawan’s genius, her compassion, her intuition. Opheia never ceased to amaze her with her maturity, years beyond where Teriata had been at her age. And she put up with Teriata’s outbursts, her interruptions, her teasing. Other Padawans would deal with it, sure, but Opheia almost seemed delighted by it.

And nostalgic, in a way.

So yes, she held her Padawan after everyone else had long-since gone to sleep and soothed away her nightmares with sedatives and soft words.

Later, she would take a step back and shake her head because she was breaking the Code by getting too attached.

And then she would do it again the next night because she was getting too attached.

* * *

Opheia was almost startled by how easily she and Teriata fell back into the easy friendship that had taken years to develop. Sometimes, it was like nothing had changed except that Teriata’s scar was just a little pinker. But then she would accidently make an inside joke that left the Miraluka confused and everything would come crashing back down.

She wondered if it was so easy because Opheia was mentally older. Looking back, she’d honestly been a stuck-up brat with Teriata at first. It was embarrassing to think back on the angry Padawan that doubted her Master’s skills and abilities. That only really started to change after their first mission together and even then their friendship developed slowly.

But she was glad.

Even if everything else had changed, at least she still had Master Teriata by her side.

If she wasn’t training with Teriata, then she was in the library, researching, or talking with Master Yoda. Her discussions with him were strange, to say the least. She expected him to want to to know all of the information she had to offer, but he mostly just asked her about her day and how she was doing. How was she sleeping? Was she eating enough? Did she want more tea? Mundane, easy questions that had nothing to do with the past or the future, only the present. She liked the change of pace, an opportunity to stop worrying so much.

But Yoda seemed on edge today. He watched her as she entered his meditation chamber with the same familiar twinkle, but already, it seemed to be dulling.

“Master Yoda,” she greeted with a bow.

“Ryloth,” he said, skipping the formal greetings. 

She blinked at him, startled by the familiar planet name. Opheia quickly schooled her emotions and sat down on one of the empty seats. It looked like today was going to be a day to relive the past... Future?

“Yes?” she said.

“Been taken, it has.”

Her heart sank. She’d been so focused on Skywalker and his future that she put aside the rest of the war. If Ryloth had been taken, then that meant that Master Ima-Gun Di was dead and she’d done nothing to prevent it. She exhaled and nodded. “Yes.”

“Prevented this, we could’ve?”

Could they have? From her limited understanding of the battle, they’d run low on supplies and their tanks had gone offline before they were overwhelmed. Even the assistance of the Twi’Leks hadn’t been enough to stop the Separatist takeover. “Perhaps,” she settled on as she looked over at him. She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m afraid I’m trained in the art of subterfuge and infiltration, not in war tactics. But there is a possibility we could’ve prevented it. I am sorry-”

Yoda held up his hand to cut her off. “Ask, I did not. Tell, you did not. Always changing, the future is.”

That was the only hope she clinged to. That no matter how little the future changed, at least something  _ changed _ . “Would you like-”

“Reassurance, is all I ask,” he said. “Win, do we? Worth it, is it?”

She studied the small green Master, the last of his kind. All she saw was concern. Concern for the future, for the people of Ryloth. He would never let it control him, but Master Yoda was still a compassionate Jedi that cared about the well-being of others. “Yes,” she said, noticing the tiniest shift in his demeanor. “But war is never worth it in the long-run.”

“Agreed, we are.”

* * *

She left after they had their tea and discussed more current events. He didn’t bring up the future again, so neither did she. She seemed to be acting on a strict “tell when asked” mindset with him. She could bring up her concerns with Skywalker, but what concerns did she really have? He was the Chosen One, the General Without Fear. The Council wasn’t going to pull him from the war because of the concerns of one insignificant Padawan.

Plus, she had no solid evidence about anything. She didn’t understand how he went from Point A to Point Z so quickly. There had to be a middle ground, a progression of events that led to him falling.

Padme Amidala was one thread the stuck out, no matter how much Opheia tried to convince herself otherwise, but where did she lead? 

And Sheev Palpatine.

She stared at his face on the datapad, her brows knitted in concentration. His history checked out. He was a good man, a good politician. But something about him grated on her nerves and she couldn’t help but notice that in some ways the Chancellor had taken a liking to young Skywalker.

A mentor of sorts.

“Hey.”

She looked up, surprised to find Teriata standing in front of her. Her Master was still supposed to be teaching a lesson. “The Council wants to see us,” she said, her smile wide. “I think it might be our first mission.”

Opheia cast another glance down at the datapad. She already knew who the Republic spy was and she could just tell the Council right now- But wait... Their first mission together happened after the Battle of Ryloth, not during it. This wasn’t good. She didn’t know what they were going to do with them, which made her anxious, but also a little excited.

Not many things were going to be new for her.

She was ready for something different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates on my fanfiction and original works.
> 
> The next chapter will be much longer, I promise.


	7. i know and i see

Opheia stared at the doors to the Council Chamber, a strange hollowness filling her. Younglings, seeking refuge in the safest place in the Temple. The Council would surely be there, right? Her, seeking refuge in the safest place in the Temple. The Council would surely be there, right? She’d pushed the chamber to the back of her mind because of all the memories, this was the most painful.

The nursery was a fresh pain, yes, but she hadn’t seen the corpses. Her last moments had been spent trying to get to them.

This was her fault. Just a few minutes. If she managed to get there just a few minutes sooner. What? What would she have done? She wiped her sweaty hands on her robes as Teriata stared forward. She said it over her shoulder, her equivalent of glancing back. “What’s wrong?”

She swallowed thickly, raised her shields a little higher, and offered her Master a shaky smile along with a wave of nerves, but reassurance. “Just nervous, I guess.”

“Don’t be. They probably won’t send us on anything too dangerous.”

Opheia eyed her. She still had faith in the Council, she had to remind herself of that at times. Towards the end of the war, especially after the Temple bombing, Teriata had begun to question the Council and their decisions. Not because she doubted the Order and their teachings, but because she doubted the point of the war as a whole. Towards the end of the war — the end of the Jedi as well, Opheia reminded herself— whispers had begun to spread through the Temple. Disapproval. Dissention. Distrust.

She’d never consider Skywalker’s actions justifiable, but she had no doubt the Council had something to do with his fall. And if that was a reason, she couldn’t disagree. They were not what they once were. War had changed her into a spy and an interrogator, willing to do anything to get the information she needed. It had turned them into political fools, corrupted by the Senate and their own skewed views on war and the Code.

“You’re probably right,” she said after a moment before glancing back at the doors. “But they did send Ahsoka to an actual, live battlefield.”

Teriata fell silent, adjusting her eye-covering. Opheia still wasn’t used to the turquoise fabric, but she’d refrained from suggesting a leather covering instead. As much as she wanted this to be her Master Teriata, she wasn’t. Not yet, anyways. “Let’s go,” her Master said and Opheia nodded.

She braced herself for the onslaught of memories. She was getting better at that. She inhaled, exhaled, let them flow and then opened her eyes. Nobody really seemed to think anything of her behavior, but from his seat, Master Yoda nodded to her almost imperceptibly. There was a question in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. 

Opheia glanced at the hologram of Master Windu. Right. He was on Ryloth. He seemed annoyed with this interruption. What stage were they at? She tried to recall details about the battle. She only read up on it briefly at the request of her Master, but there’d been a blockade? Yes, one that... She blinked. Didn’t Ahsoka break through the blockade?

She ignored the sudden swell of pride that filled her at the thought. She didn’t even know if that happened yet and even if it did, what right did she have to be proud of her? A voice whispered to her that they  _ were _ friends now. She was allowed to be proud of her friend.

Yeah, a friend she only made out of necessity. Mace Windu steepled his hands together and Opheia straightened up. He always started his meetings like that. Every Jedi knew that, even the Younglings.

She bit her lip at the thought of them. Not in this room. She refused to think about them when she was in this room. She glanced around at the other Masters. All of them dead except for Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda (that she knew of). How did one man have so much power?

So much hatred?

Windu launched into a description that sounded familiar and Opheia glanced over at Yoda, who watched her expectantly. She looked over at Teriata, who nodded along with the information, before zoning in herself. “To find this spy in the Senate,” Windu said and Opheia paused. This wasn’t about her first mission. This was about something that happened before she left the Temple, a mission Teriata advised on. Something she knew about.

She looked over a Master Yoda, who nodded to her. This was a test, she realized, but as she looked at him, she found something else as well. An opportunity.

Windu fell silent and Teriata pursed her lips, “So you want us to find-”

“It’s Senator Corfin Taskfarl,” Opheia stated and her Master stiffened.

A hush fell over the Council. Mace Windu eyed her and she stared back at him unflinchingly. She’d stared down Anakin Skywalker. He didn’t scare her. “You’re right,” he said after a moment and it took her a second to realize he was addressing Master Yoda.

“Opheia?” Master Teriata said in a soft voice.

She glanced over at Yoda. What was happening? “Look into this with your Padawan, Knight Teriata,” Windu said as he glanced down at something. “I have to take my leave now.”

Ahsoka broke through the blockade then.

He dismissed the meeting and everyone left except for Yoda, Teriata, and Opheia. She watched the green master hobble over to them, glancing at her Master out of the corner of her eye. “What was that?” Teriata questioned.

“Visions, she has,” Yoda said and the Miraluka tilted her head.

“Yes, I know,” she nodded. “Of her death.”

Yoda’s eyebrows shot up. She hadn’t mentioned that to him yet. She clasped her hands in front of her, “Of more than that, Master.”

Teriata looked in her direction. If she had eyes, they would be having a staring contest right now. Then she looked away. “You, I believe,” Yoda said as he finally stopped in front of them. “But the council will not. Trust with them, you must build. Accurate, you must be.”

She stared him, bewildered. He was giving her an opportunity. An opportunity to get the council to trust her to the point where they would believe anything she told them. Even if she told them that the Chosen One was going to fall. He nodded, “Small, you must start. A test, Senator Taskfarl is.”

Opheia glanced at her Master, who was watching the exchange in contemplative silence, a rare occurrence for her. “If you believe me,” she started and exhaled. “They why don’t I just tell you-”

He shook his head, “Your burden to bear, the future is. Not mine. Not Teriata’s. Yours.”

And with that, he left the chamber. Teriata was still standing in silence. “Master-” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry,” her Master said and it was the last thing Opheia expected to hear out of her mouth. “Something was bothering you and I didn’t ask what it was. I’ll try harder and I hope one day, you’ll trust me with as much as you can. We’ll break into Senator Taskfarl’s office tomorrow to find evidence.”

She blinked at Teriata’s back as she walked away, head bowed in thought. Opheia turned to look out the windows of the chamber, a frown set into her face. If this was how things were going to progress, then she needed to move quickly. She needed to find out why Skywalker fell. She needed to stop the Temple Bombing. She needed to prevent so many things from happening altogether.

She needed to get this right because she didn’t know if there would be anymore chances after this.

* * *

It wasn’t the first time Opheia had broken into a Senator’s office and she doubted it would the last time. She watched Teriata fumble with the lock-pick decoder for a few seconds before taking it from her. She was always quicker than her Master at this. Numbers and code came to her as easily as breathing, just like acting and mind-tricks came to Teriata.

The office was pretty ordinary in and off itself, if a little smaller than most Senator’s. Opheia briefly wondered if she could break into Amidala’s or Palpatine’s office. Not today, obviously, but it might speed things up. “Do you know where the evidence is?” Teriata questioned, tone clipped and cold.

She hadn’t said more than a few words to Opheia since the day before. Even when she’d woken up from her nightmares, all her Master did was inject her with her sedative and stay there until she fell asleep. No calming words or half-lullabies. Opheia thought back to what her Master Teriata told her about this particular scenario.

“A safe,” she settled on. “There’s a safe filled with locked datapads.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s...” Opheia’s hands twisted into the fabric of her robe. “That’s all I know.”

Teriata nodded as she started to walk around the room. She worked quickly, quietly, with gloved hands gliding over any and every surface as Opheia kept watch. She used Force-vision to keep watch because she could see more that way. Beyond the walls. Down the halls. Even in the air ducts. Teriata paused and she could feel her Master peering at her in the Force. Not impressed anymore.  _ Scrutinizing _ .

“So... These visions,” Teriata said as she continued her work, calm and collected. She was in her element here.

Opheia cast her vision a little farther to the turbo-lifts and the floors below. The Senate meeting was still going on. She sighed as she leaned back against the wall, the cool metal pressing against her exposed neck. “They’re not visions,” she said and Teriata stopped again.

“What do you mean?”

“I-” she followed a man as he walked towards the turbo-lift, but he took it down, not up. “I meant to keep you out of this for longer. Maybe build up our trust a little bit more-”

“Are you a spy?” she said is casually, but Opheia knew that tactic. The “nonchalant” way of approaching difficult subjects.

A half-choked laugh escaped her and she shook her head. “Force, no,” she laughed again. “I’m afraid the truth is much more-”

A click echoed through the room and she fell silent, easing her eyes open as Teriata pulled out a false bottom to a drawer. She beckoned Opheia over. “Can you decode this too?” she questioned, almost sheepishly.

Opheia nodded as she crouched down next to her. This time, Teriata cast her vision out to keep guard. She worked quickly, quietly. “Who taught you how to do this?” her Master questioned.

As she worked through the binary, she considered the question. The truth, she decided. “You did,” she said, smiling fondly at the memory. “When I was fifteen. You coached me through it while you fought of some droids.”

“What-”

The safe beeped and opened. Inside, as promised, was a stockpile of datapads. Teriata picked one up, flipping it over in her hand. “Who are you?” she asked before handing Opheia the datapad.

“I’m a Knight of the Jedi Order,” she said as she eyed the datapad. She’d need more than a simple decoder to unlock it. “My name is Opheia Heldsworth, I’m eighteen years old. I died and now I’m trapped in my fourteen year old body, in the past.”

Teriata paused in gathering the pads and considered her. “Makes sense,” she said as she slung the bag over her shoulder. Opheia stared at her. “You know more about me than anyone should and I’ve never seen any Master and Padawan pair get along so quickly. I mean, it’s nice, but it’s unrealistic any way you spin it and nobody can put up with all of my flaws so well after just a few months. You’re too mature, like scary mature, like ‘this is kriffing impossible’ mature and you had a complete 180 change of attitude a couple of weeks ago. It makes sense.”

“You... Believe me?”

“I didn’t say that. I did not say that,” Teriata sighed out a half laugh. “But it does make sense.”

“Thank Force,” Opheia exhaled, elation bursting through her. “I can’t wait-”

“Don’t,” she shook her head. “I want to help, I want you to tell me everything about the future right now, but Master Yoda’s right. I meditated and he is right, this is your burden to bear. When the time comes for you to divulge information, I’ll happily accept it, but for now, let’s keep it to a minimum.”

“Why?” Opheia jolted to her feet, anger coursing through her. “Do you know what it feels like to know so much and have to keep it all inside?”

“No,” Teriata frowned at her. “I don’t.”

“It’s horrible! It’s infuriating! I feel like a fucking kettle preparing to boil over, but I can’t because someone keeps taking me off the stove right before I do. And I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m eighteen. I’m a kid. I’m not wise. I’m not exceptional. I’m a subpar Jedi that became a Knight because the some factor of war decided to make me one. Actually, it was probably because they needed me to go on more missions by myself because of how thinly spread we were. I just- Why me? Why me? I’m not even that significant in this war! I bet I wouldn’t even be mentioned in any history books.”

“Keep your voice down,” Teriata said softly. “There is no passion, there is only-”

“Serenity. I know,” she shook her head and shoved a hand through her hair.

Teriata placed a hand on her shoulder, “This is your purpose, my Padawan. The Force sent  _ you _ back, not someone else. Who knows why? But it was you. There’s something you have that no one else does. Find out what that is.”

She didn’t need to search for the answer. She already knew it. She remembered it from her mediation after she woke up in this body. Impartiality. But why wasn’t Teriata impartial in this? What in the Force was telling her that she shouldn’t be told anything?

“You’re right,” she said after a second.

“I know,” Teriata smirked at her. “Now, let’s get out of here before those three guards show up.”

Opheia tilted her head as she sent her vision down the hall. Teriata was right. Three guards were racing towards them. “Air ducts?” she suggested, a lopsided smile forming on her face.

Teriata sighed, an exasperated, but happy sound. The tension between them was fading. Opheia could feel it disintegrating like something dropped into lava. “Fine, air ducts it is. Then the turbo lift because we’re civilized Jedi.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” she said as she pulled down the vent with the Force and pulled herself up into the air duct, her Master right behind her. 

The door started to slide open as Teriata levitated the vent back into place. They watched the confused guards for a second before crawling away, goofy, proud grins spread across their faces.

This was only the beginning, Opheia reminded herself. Today, Taskfarl. Someday, Skywalker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend made an amazing [trailer](https://youtu.be/1l6kHJQymSI) for this. Check it out!
> 
> Also, follow me on Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates and stuffs!


	8. correspondence

[  _ Found Master Plo Koon. _ ]

[  **Oh, thank the Force. Is his okay?** ]

[  _ He’s alive. That’s all that matters.  _ ]

[  **Are you okay?** ]

[ _I will be. Once I can get back to the Temple and rest. Sorry we weren’t able to meet up._ ]

[  **It’s fine. Next time?** ]

[  _ Next time. _ ]

 

[  **Scurrying off again?** ]

[  _ Did you just compare me to a loth-rat, Phey _ ? ]

[  **I did no such thing! I’m shocked at such an accusation.** ]

[ _ Yeah, sure... Hehe. _ ]

[  **Sorry I missed you again. Been so busy with training and stuff.** ]

[  _ It’s fine. Sorry you’re missing out on all of the action. It’s crazy out here. _ ]

[  **I think I’ll stick to my datapads.** ]

[  _ You can’t see me, but I’m rolling my eyes right now _ . ]

...

[  _ We’re landing! Gotta go. Meet up at the Temple? _ ]

[  **Meet up at the Temple.** ]

 

[  _ Dang it! Missed you again. What’s keeping you so busy?  _ ]

[  **Super secret spy stuff** . ]

[  _ You haven’t even gone on a mission yet. _ ]

[  **Yet is the key word here.** ]

...

[  _ I miss you, Phey. I know we haven’t technically been friends for that long, but... _ ]

[  **I know. Me too. I feel like you’re the only thing keeping me sane sometimes.** ]

[  _??? What do you mean?  _ ]

...

[  **Teriata needs me. Gotta go.** ]

[  _ Phey? _ ]

[  **Yeah?** ]

[  _ You know you can talk to me, right? _ ]

...

[  _ Opheia?  _ ]

 

[  **Heard about your little adventure with Master Luminara** . ]

[  _ What? From who? I thought that was confidential. _ ]

[  **Luminara and Teriata are old friends.** ]

[  _ But Master Luminara is such a stick in the mud! _ ]

[  **They balance each other out, I guess. Anyways, your little adventure?** ]

[  _ Was a failure. Thanks for reminding me. _ ]

[  **From what I heard, you saved Luminara’s life.** ]

[  _ Really? Who told you that?  _ ]

[  **Luminara. Though I doubt she’ll admit it to anyone else (and technically speaking, she admitted it to Teriata and not me).** ]

[  _ Wow. That’s pretty cool.  _ ]

[  **It is! You’re kinda like a hero now, ‘Soka.** ]

...

[  **Ahsoka?** ]

[  _ I don’t feel like a hero. _ ]

...

[  _ I keep having nightmares, Phey. You get them too, right? How do you make them stop? _ ]

[  **I don’t. Teriata gives me a sedative at night. I don’t think you can use it out there though.** ]

[  _ No. Probably not. Do you think they’ll ever stop? _ ]

[  **Honest answer?** ]

[  _ You’re my best friend. Please be honest with me at all times. _ ]

...

...

[  _ Phey _ ? ]

...

[  **No. They’re not going to go away. Just... Use the sedative here on Coruscant. Or on the Twilight when you’re travelling. I’ll send you the medical code for it.** ]

[  _ Okay. Sounds good. _ ]

...

[  _ And Phey? _ ]

[  **Yeah, ‘Soka?** ]

[  _ Thank you. _ ]

[  **No problem.** ]

 

[  **Missed you again it seems. We’re always so busy, aren’t we** ? ]

[  _ Well, I am. I don’t know what you’re doing all day. Though I hear you’ve been meeting with Master Yoda a lot? _ ]

[  **We mostly just talk about tea. He’s concerned about my nightmares** . ]

[  _ I’m concerned about your nightmares too. I’ve told you all about mine? _ ]

[  **Don’t worry about it too much. Did you finally manage to catch up on some sleep while you were on Coruscant?** ]

[  _ A little, yeah. The Healers are a little concerned that I might be using too many stims on the battlefield. _ ]

[  **...Are you?** ]

[  _ Honest answer? _ ]

[  **Ahsoka.** ]

[  _ I mean, yeah. Probably. Not as many as Master Skywalker though. _ ]

...

[  **Do you like your Master?** ]

[  _ Yeah! He’s great! And surprisingly nice too. I mean, we’ve only been paired a few weeks, but I feel like we’re meshing pretty well, you know? Not as well as you and Teriata, but... I don’t anyone can mesh as well as you two. _ ]

[  **You’d be surprised.** ]

[  _ So? How are things on Coruscant _ ? ]

[  **I hit a roadblock in my research, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out soon.** ]

[  _ Are you ever going to tell me what this mysterious project is? _ ]

...

[  _ Phey? _ ]

...

...

[  _ Phey, I’m sorry for asking. Please come back? _ ]

...

...

...

[  _ Opheia?  _ ]

 

[  **Force, I’m a fucking horrible friend.** ]

[  _ It’s fine. You were busy. _ ]

[  **And you’re gonna be quarantined the entire time you’re on Coruscant so I can’t even properly apologize!** ]

[  _ Phey! It’s fine, seriously.  _ ]

[ **Are you fine? Like physically? Mentally? Emotionally?** ]

[  _ Are you sure you’re not a Healer because one of them just asked me the same exact questions. _ ]

[  **No. It’s not my area of expertise.** ]

[  _ What is? Finding the dustiest outdated datapad in the Archives? _ ]

[  **Yes, actually. Thank you for finally noticing.** ]

[  _ Stop making me laugh or I’m going to die of suffocation.  _ ]

[  **Force, I’m sorry.** ]

[  _ No, it’s fine. It’s lonely here in quarantine. _ ]

...

[  **Master Skywalker’s not with you?** ]

[  _ He was, but he left to go do something else. I think he’s just getting some rest. He deserves it. _ ]

[  **Yeah.** ]

[  _ It’s official!  _ ]

[  **What is?** ]

[  _ The next time I’m on Coruscant and not locked in a stuffy room by myself, we’re meeting up at the Parks and having a picnic at noon.  _ ]

[  **That’s... Oddly specific** . ]

[  _ If we don’t make plans, then we’re never going to see each other, so I’m going to be a specific as possible. _ ]

[  **Fair enough. You should get some rest while you can though. Who knows when they’ll ship you out next?** ]

[  _ What about you? Got a mission yet?  _ ]

[  **No. I don’t think they’ll be one for awhile. Teriata’s still got a lot to teach me.** ]

[  _ Maybe we’ll go on this next one together. _ ]

[  **Unlikely** . ]

[  _ Let a girl dream, Phey.  _ ]

[  **Fine. Fine. Maybe.** ]

...

[  _ Thank you _ . ]

[  **For what?** ]

[  _ Being my friend. _ ]

...

[  **I’ll see you soon, ‘Soka** . ]

 

Opheia flipped through her old chatlogs with Ahsoka idly. Ryloth was liberated. She as coming back to Coruscant soon. And Opheia had a feeling she and Teriata weren’t going off planet for a long, long time. 

They hadn’t spoken since she was let out of quarantine and shipped off again. They never talked about Ahsoka’s battles or missions until they were over and rarely corresponded when she was on the frontlines.

Had it really been three months since she woke up in this body?

She stared down at their last set of messages. A picnic sounded nice right about now. Something to take her mind off of everything, off of the future she was constantly bombarded about, off the war, off Anakin Skywalker and his dubious relationships with Naboo politicians. When she’d first messaged Ahsoka, it had been out of desperate need to talk to someone besides her Master or Yoda. She never expected it to turn into  _ this _ . Hundreds of messages sent between them and those were just the ones she saved.

Ahsoka Tano was her friend, no matter what angle she looked at it from. She tapped her fingers against her desk and gnawed on her bottom lip when the chatlog blinked.

 

[  _ Landing in three hours. Enough time for me to take a shower before our picnic _ . ]

 

Despite herself, Opheia smiled. Her fingers danced across the screen as she checked and double checked her grammar and spelling.

 

[  **Thank the Force. I don’t want battle sweat all over my sandwiches** . ]

[  _ Wow, you actually responded before I died of boredom. Anyways, you don’t want Ryloth smell all over your sandwiches either. You know, for such a nice planet, it sure does smell weird. _ ]

 

Opheia stifled the giggle that tried to escape her and glanced around the library almost conspiratorially. She paused, staring down at the screen. How did Ahsoka do that? How did she make her forget for even a few seconds that a war was raging on around them?

Padawan Heldsworth  _ definitely _ should’ve befriended Ahsoka Tano. She shook her head. Too late for that. Knight Opheia was friends with her now and that was all that mattered.

 

[  **Ew. No thank you. I’ll cook, okay? I heard something about you almost burning down the Temple a few weeks ago when you stopped in?** ]

[  _ Excuse me? I’m a very good cook, I’ll have you know. _ ]

[  **Really?** ]

[  _ Who ratted me out? Was it that slimy little Senior Initiate Yannick? He’s always out to get me.  _ ]

[ **Just a little rumor, ‘Soka. Thanks for confirming it though. Now I know to never let you near a stove.** ]

[  _ Are you some great and mighty chef then, Opheia? You gonna cook us a feast? _ ]

[  **I mean, not to brag or anything, but...** ]

[  _ Opheia Heldsworth! Are you hiding your secret cooking skills from me? _ ]

[  **Well, not anymore. You’ll see soon enough.** ]

[  _ Now I’m more excited for the food than seeing you. _ ]

[  **What? I’m offended.** ]

[  _ I’m just kidding. I’m gonna hop in the shower. See you soon. _ ]

 

“Yeah,” Opheia breathed out as she typed out her response. “See you soon.”

* * *

Teriata found her in the kitchen. “Why are you making so much noise?” she groaned as she tied her covering over her face.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Opheia looked over at her Master apologetically. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I finished my class an hour ago,” she said and sat down at the table. She glanced in Opheia’s general direction. “Decided to take a nap.”

“Oh.”

Opheia’s heart sunk. She was the reason Teriata needed a nap in the first place and now she’d gone and woke her up. “Stop moping, my Padawan,” she scolded as she used the Force to summon a pear into her hand.

The human blinked down at the empty spot where the pear she’d been cutting up had just been. She planted her hands on her hips and whirled around to face the Miraluka as she bit into the fruit. “Really?” she said, trying to sound exasperated, but she was unable to keep the light tone out of her voice.

In response, her Master took another bite out of the fruit. “Now, are you going to tell me what you’re doing in here?” she questioned.

Opheia turned back to the picnic she was preparing and blanched. Did she really make so much food? She laughed nervously, “Um, Ahsoka and I are meeting in the Parks for lunch.”

“Ahsoka...” Teriata mulled over the name as she took another bite out of the fruit. “You mean that little Togruta girl you befriended? Isn’t she Anakin Skywalker’s apprentice?”

“Yeah...” Opheia continued to chop up the fruit she was using to make a fruit salad. “Is that okay?”

“Fine by me,” Teriata shrugged. “You need more friends your age. I just wasn’t aware you two were in contact.”

“We’ve been...” Opheia tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Corresponding for the past couple of months.”

“Chatlogging?” Teriata said with a strange smile.

“Yeah,” Opheia peered at her Master. “What’s that expression for?”

“Oh nothing,” she said in a sing-songy voice before striding back over to her bedroom. “But do try to keep it down, dear. I need my beauty sleep.”

Opheia scoffed as Teriata left the room. She exhaled, staring down at her small feast. She hoped Ahsoka was hungry.

* * *

Ahsoka Tano was starving. She hoped Opheia was as good a cook as she claimed to be. She bounced a little in place at the thought of seeing her {arguably} only friend for the first time in months. It seemed like they always managed to miss each other, but this time, Ahsoka was going to see Opheia if it killed her.

“You okay, Snips?” Master Skywalker questioned as they walked away from the debriefing room. She was honestly just waiting for him to give her the go-ahead to leave.

“Yeah,” she smiled up at him and glanced down the hall. Towards the Parks. Towards Opheia.

“You couldn’t sit still during the debriefing,” he commented. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Never been better,” a giddy smile spread across her face.

He stared at her for several seconds before shrugging. She rocked back on her heels. “You wanna go get something to eat from the canteen?” he asked.

Ahsoka’s smile dropped. She usually relished any opportunity she got to spend time with Master Skywalker outside of the battlefield or training, but Opheia... “I actually have plans, Master,” she said as she fidgeted with the hilt of her lightsaber. Maybe Opheia was right. Maybe she should pick up Jar’kai.

“Plans?” he raised an eyebrow at her. “To do what?”

“I’m meeting a friend for lunch,” she said, still not looking up at him.

“Wasn’t aware you had any friends.”

“Hey!” she crossed her arms over her chest. “I have  _ lots _ of friends.”

Okay, that wasn’t necessarily true. She had a lot of creche-mates and some of the older Jedi were polite enough when addressing her, but  _ friends _ was a bit of a stretch. When she thought about it, Opheia really was her only actual friend. Master Skywalker held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright,” he rolled his eyes. “Don’t stay out too late, okay?”

She blinked at him. What was that supposed to mean? Realization dawned on her and she choked out a nervous chuckle as heat raced up to her face. “Master!” she shrieked, causing several nearby Jedi to pause in whatever they were doing. “I’m fourteen!”

“I was fourteen once too,” he smirked at her as he walked away, leaving his flustered Padawan in the middle of the hallway.

With a huff, Ahsoka turned down the hallway towards the Parks. As expected, the Jedi garden was abloom, a flurry of color and fragrance. A group of Initiates ran past her, giggling with an airiness that gave Ahsoka pause. It’d been awhile since she was so carefree.

She missed those days.

She shook her head and ventured deeper into the domed greenhouse. Her steps slowed to a stop when she spotted her friend. The human girl was holding a heavy-looking basket as she stared up at the towering galek tree in center of the garden. A distant expression clouded her eyes, making her look much older than she was. Ahsoka saw the same expression when she visited Opheia in the hospital, before she met Master Skywalker.

Opheia shook her head and turned to look at Ahsoka, a warm smile slipping onto her face. Ahsoka decided she much preferred that expression on the redhead’s face. She wanted to keep the distant look out of her eyes.

“Hello, ‘Soka.”

Before she could stop herself, Ahsoka sprinted across the distance and tackled Opheia into a hug. She stumbled back, but managed to stay upright as she delicately patted Ahsoka’s back. “Sorry,” Ahsoka pulled away with a nervous giggle. “I just... I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Opheia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hungry?”

“ _ Starving _ .”

They collapsed onto the bench underneath the tree and Opheia opened the basket to reveal a feast of food. “Wow,” Ahsoka muttered. Everything looked so delicious.

“Sorry,” Opheia laughed. “I got a little carried away.”

“No, it’s fine!” Ahsoka pulled out a particularly good-looking container full of sandwiches and dug in.

She didn’t realize how quickly she was eating until she noticed Opheia staring at her. Heat raced up to her face and she ducked her head. Force, how awkward can you get, ‘Soka? “Sorry,” she stared down at her lap. “You have to eat quickly out there or you don’t eat at all...”

Opheia probably thought she was a glutton now. She spared a glance at her friend, startled by the saddened expression on her face. She waved her hand in a frantic attempt to diffuse the tension, “But it’s nothing to worry about. Really, Phey. Don’t worry about me.”

But the expression didn’t leave her face. Odd. That usually worked with the clones. Opheia turned away before looking back over at her with a weak attempt at a smile. Ahsoka’s frown deepened. This is not how she was expecting their reunion to go. “Is everything okay, Phey?”

“No.”

They both seemed surprised by that answer. Opheia sighed and shoved a hand through her hair. She was shaking, Ahsoka realized with a sinking stomach. The human girl shook her head before looking back over at Ahsoka. “No, everything’s not okay,” she said and Ahsoka blinked at the look in her eyes. The glint of something firm and unmoving. “But it will be. Someday, it will be.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't been able to tell yet, the friendship between Ahsoka and Opheia is a very important part of this story and one of the main reasons I made this fic in the first place.
> 
> Anyways, I'm so happy about the new episodes of Rebels! I literally cried when I was watching the latest episode.
> 
> Hey, check out my Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates and cool stuffs. Plus, I answer any and all asks on Sundays!


	9. no passion, only peace

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name.”

Opheia shifted awkwardly in the large, fluffy chair as she returned her gaze to the person in front of her. The room was huge, bigger than she expected, but not so large that she couldn’t sense the handmaids hiding behind a faux wall. The woman watched her with kind brown eyes, but there was an unusual guarded air to her.

She probably wasn’t used to having strange Jedi Padawans in her office.

“Padawan Opheia, Senator Amidala,” she said politely averting her gaze again. “I’m a friend of Ahsoka Tano, if that puts you more at ease.”

Padme Amidala hummed as she relaxed just a bit into her chair. She nodded, “Yes, it does, actually.”

Opheia reached out with the Force, just to double check that her Master still waited for her on the floor below. Yes and she seemed undistressed, which meant that no one had questioned her presence yet. Then again, she was disguised as a Miraluka politician. “Might I ask why you wanted to speak with me?” Senator Amidala questioned, her tone genuinely curious.

Opheia studied her for a long second. Months of researched had led her here, to the office in the Senate building. And more time spent waiting for a response from the busy Senator; it was only Ahsoka’s name that got her through the door. When she brought it up to her fellow Padawan, she claimed it was about politics, an assignment given to her Master.

It hadn’t taken much convincing at all, really. Ahsoka seemed more than eager to do anything that Opheia asked of her. And, if she was being honest, she’d likely do anything the Togruta asked of her as well.

Amidala was pretty, of that she had no doubt. And intelligent. She could see it reflected in her eyes and in subtle tenseness of her shoulders. To an ordinary person or even to a different Jedi, it might’ve been unnoticeable. But this was Opheia’s job, what she was trained to see and notice went beyond what was felt in the Force. It was basic sentient instinct.

She sighed; no need to beat around the bush. “What is your relationship with Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker?” she raised her gaze to Amidala’s face.

There it was. A small glance to the right, nothing more than a flicker really, but enough to tell Opheia that the next words coming out of the Senator’s mouth would be a lie. “We’re just friends,” she smiled, warm but not trusting. “Why do you ask?”

She understood now.

Opheia would never be able to describe the feeling that washed over her next. Cold and numbing. Frightening and eye-opening. It travelled down her spine to her toes and the tips of her fingers and filled her core with something she couldn’t comprehend. Her fingers curled into fists as she dropped her gaze to her lap. She stared down at her legs, at the fancy carpet beneath her booted feet, at the bottom of the desk, were a small jammer was hidden.

Then, she identified it. Anguish.

All of this. Everything that happened. Every life lost. Every child slaughtered. For a single _woman_?!

She exhaled, the sound coming out more even than she expected, and looked back at Padme Amidala. She was still smiling and Opheia was aware that more than one person would be willing to lay down their life for the champion of democracy.

But would they do what he had done? For her?

She returned the smile and forced herself to calm down. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. Maybe Skywalker’s fall had nothing to do with the woman in front of her.

But greater Jedi had fallen for less.

“Thank you for your time, Senator,” she said as she rose to her feet. “I hope to meet you again.”

She turned and left before Amidala had time to respond. The turbolift she stepped on was empty thankfully. She only pressed the stop button when the door slid closed behind her. Instead, in the soundproof cubicle, she screamed. She slammed her hand against the steel floor until blood smothered her knuckles and her bones cracked with each movement.

Tears flowed down her face, mixing with the blood on her hands, as she glared at the floor. Why? Why had Anakin Skywalker forsaken the entire Jedi Order, the entire galaxy, for one insignificant woman? Opheia searched and searched, but no answers came to her. Even if it meant saving Teriata, she would never do such a thing. She wouldn’t do it for anyone. If Teriata fell and asked Opheia to follow, she would refuse.

Opheia couldn’t understand it. She wanted to— no, she _needed_ to understand, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t comprehend why anyone hurt so many living, breathing people for their own selfish desires.

If compassion meant understanding why Skywalker had done what he’d done, then she didn’t want to be compassionate.

Not towards him.

But then she remembered Ahsoka and how fondly she talked about her Master. How her eyes twinkled when she spoke of his kindness and valor and intelligence. Or how the Younglings and Initiates whispered about him with awe in their voices. Stories of how he inspired the clones and his fellow Jedi on the battlefield and off of it.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew how legacies worked. Anakin Skywalker would never be known for the great man he once was, only for the monster he became.

She could kill him, pin it on someone else. There were plenty of people that wanted to kill him simply for being a Jedi. He’d never see it coming, not from her. Hell, she could take the blame herself and at least the Order would survive, corrupt though it was. Perhaps his death could change that, instill a new sense of hope and then his death would be seen as a tragedy. He’d never fall. He’d be revered as hero.

No.

Opheia shoved herself off of the ground. Perhaps it was the right thing to do and possibly the easiest, but she would never forgive herself. She couldn’t kill him, not when he was the same Anakin Skywalker she used to look up to.

She would stop him from falling.

When she reached the floor below, tears dried from her eyes and her face passive, only Teriata stepped in. “Did you get what we came for?” she questioned, face hidden under the ceremonial hood of her people.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Teriata reached out and caught one of Opheia’s injured hands. She winced at the pain. She definitely broke a few bones. “You’re bleeding.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“What’s wrong?”

Opheia glanced at her Master, kind and wise, resilient and odd. She still had yet to see her death and she constantly thanked the Force for that. She looked away as the turbolift plummeted, along with Opheia’s stomach. “Why are we such selfish beings?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone. Everywhere. We all have something we want, something we lust over, something we crave,” Opheia turned her gaze to the overhead lights. “Even as Jedi, we crave things. Sometimes selfless, but more often than not, it’s just as selfish as wanting power or money or recognition. We’re not emotionless. We’re not perfect beings. We- We’re just like everyone else except we actually have the ability to get what we want and change what we don’t want.”

“What are you going on about?”

This time, Opheia turned to her Master. “Is there something _you_ want?”

Teriata shifted, letting her hand drop from Opheia’s. She could lie because she could lie better than anyone else Opheia knew. But she knew she wouldn’t. There would be no gain in it; no accomplishment would come of it other than losing her Padawan’s trust. And she knew that. “Yes,” she said after a moment. “And it’s a selfish desire. I’m not exactly the best Jedi, am I?”

“Am I allowed to be selfish too?” Opheia’s asked and her Master jolted in surprise.

“What do you want?”

Opheia swallowed as the doors to the lobby slid open. “To save everyone.”

In every sense of the word. Even those that didn't deserved to be saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter's a bit short. Been feeling a little out of sorts lately. I hope you all enjoyed it though!
> 
> Hey, check out my Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates and cool stuffs. Plus, I answer any and all asks about literally anything on Sundays!


	10. a state of being

She locked herself in her room with a single blank datapad. Opheia offered no explanation to anyone. Not Master Teriata or Yoda or even Ahsoka. She gave the Grandmaster a vague description of the attack that would happen in the Temple— a mundane and small attack, by all means, considering the fact that no one actually managed to get severely injured aside from Master Enisence, who she mentioned by name and could only hope they put in protective custody.

Aside from that, she said nothing. She changed out of her Jedi robes into her sleep clothes and sat on her bed and did the one thing she wasn’t supposed to do.

She grieved.

Every inch of her instinct fought against her. Every molecule in her body told her this was wrong. Because it wasn’t the Jedi way. Jedi let go. Jedi accepted the fate of the world.

But Jedi also didn’t see their entire culture, their family, and their lives ripped away from them with as much ceremony as erasing an infestation of lothrats. In this world, this timeline, she was the only one that would ever witness that.

She curled into a ball and cried for hours over those she lost. Over Madame Jocasta and the the Masters. Over the Younglings and the other Padawans. Over those lost to the years of war and violence.

She picked at the food that Teriata dropped off for her. Drank some water. Took a too long shower. Drank some calming tea. She allowed herself to grieve because, yes, she needed to let go, but she needed to do it the right way.

And when her tears were all spent, when the pressure weighing on her chest felt just a little bit lighter, she sat up and meditated.

She dove as deep as she could, resting on that thin sheet of ice that separated her from the mysterious presence she first met. Around her, the Force rose and fell with a gentle breath, like a wave of power moving through all things. It was always there, but she very rarely felt it as potently as she did now. There was some panic there, which meant the attack was likely going on, but for the most part, hope prevailed.

Everyone likely expected the war to end soon. At this point, she’d started wishing for peace and some faith among members of the Order had begun to crumble.

She inhaled. Exhaled. And took a step across the ice. It held her weight as she walked and allowed her consciousness to wander. 

Padme Amidala and Anakin Skywalker had some kind of relationship with each other; one that, if she had to guess, was romantic by nature. Jedi were not celibate despite what outsiders thought. Sexual urges were natural and dealt with in the same fashion one might use to deal with an itch on their nose. Opheia knew that even Teriata had a few sexual partners; it was normal, encouraged even as a healthy way to relieve stress and release endorphins.

Anything beyond that was discouraged.

Not out of some cruel ideal that Jedi should be isolated. No, it was discouraged because of what the Jedi were capable of. Opheia knew that good things came from love. She knew very little of her birth parents, but the vague memories that remained in her mind were of love and deep compassion. She loved Teriata as a sister and mother figure and as a friend. She loved Madame Jocasta. She loved most of the Order, but in a purely platonic sense.

That was where the difference came in.

Good things came from love, but so did dangerous things. Possessiveness and obsession being among the top cons. It was when you let those principles override the understanding and compassion that evolved from love that you let it control and corrupt you.

She had no doubt that was one of the factors in Anakin Skywalker’s fall. He was described as hotheaded and brash and Ahsoka often mentioned his kindness and the depths of his friendship. The incident with the Blue Shadow Virus proved this as did the fact that he ran after his Padawan when she left the Order.

The problem wasn’t that Skywalker didn’t care at all; it was that he cared too much and he let that control him.

But there had to be other factors as well. There was something she was missing, a stone left unturned, a misplaced puzzle piece.

She stopped, staring off into the vast nothingness around her. Sheev Palpatine stuck out, just like Amidala once did. The Chancellor took an interest in Skywalker when he was younger and, from what she knew, the two had some kind of repeated correspondence.

Unless he was in a relationship with Palpatine as well, something was off.

A commotion jolted her out of her meditation. The Temple was no longer in lockdown mode, she noted as she glanced up at the shut off emergency light. How long had she been gone?

She stood, but a cold panic suddenly seized her body as a familiar darkness curled around her. Her legs crumpled from underneath her and she slammed a hand against her chest to feel her heart thump against her skin.

“If I could just  _ speak _ with her,” a dark voice sounded from the lounge.

Opheia turned to her door with wide eyes. “She’s meditating,” Teriata’s own rising voice replied. “You’ll have to come back another time or not at all, but please leave.”

“I need to speak with your Padawan this instant!”

A full body flinch clenched around Opheia and she resisted the urge to pull herself into a ball and rock like a small child.

Anakin Skywalker.

She focused on evening out her breathing rather than the questions bombarding her mind. Was she too late? Had he already begun his fall? Did Amidala have no correlation with this? Amidala. Opheia forced herself to stand. The Senator must’ve talked with Skywalker, which meant he knew about her question.

He knew that she knew.

In. Out. In. “Let me talk to her!”

Out. She stepped towards the door and it slid open as she straightened her back and tried to make herself as tall and as proud as she could. Anakin Skywalker stood at the door to her apartment in front of Teriata, who was dressed for bed. What time was it? She stepped from her room.

“You!” Skywalker said with a pointed finger and an angry tone.

Any and all sense of decorum dropped from Opheia. The sharp sting of anger pulsing in her veins, she leaped forward and slammed her fist into Skywalker’s jaw. He stumbled back, surprise replacing the fury in his eyes and in the Force as he clutched his injured face. Teriata’s mouth opened and closed like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words.

Opheia straightened herself out with an exhale and stepped back, letting the anger leave her like an unplugged drain. “I am sorry, Master Skywalker,” she said. “I have been suffering from nightmares and visions and I mistook your presence for that of a threat.”

“Oh.”

Skywalker straightened, looking a bit startled by the whole scenario. He glanced between the still silent Teriata and Opheia before bowing his head, “I am sorry for the intrusion,” he said, his voice much softer than it had been before. “May I speak with you, Padawan Opheia?”

No. “Yes,” she placed a hand on Teriata’s shoulder. “But in here please. I’m sure we’ve caused enough commotion already. Master, why don’t you retire?”

“Are you-”

“Yes,” she replied, giving her a quick squeeze.

When her Master was gone, Opheia gestured to the table and set about starting a pot of tea for them. “I apologize for my anger,” Skywalker said and she glanced back at him out of the corner of her eye. He almost hunched in on himself as if he wanted to seem smaller than he actually was.

She never wanted to meet him. She planned on avoiding him at all costs, but if she lost it on him now, if she killed him in his vulnerability, she’d be no better than him. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh. This needed to be civil so he left her alone or at least didn’t plan on killing her anytime soon. “It’s alright,” she said, leaning back against the kitchenette counter.

“It’s not,” he said before raising his head to look at her. “But thank you. I know I need to get a-”

“What did you need to talk about, Knight Skywalker?”

He frowned, but looked away. “You talked with Senator Amidala the other day,” he said. “I was wondering why you asked her what you did.”

“Because I know the truth.”

His eyes flashed when he looked back at her and the chill crept down her spine again. “We’re just friends.”

The kettle screeched behind her and she removed it, filling two mugs and sliding one over to Skywalker. She sat down, her eyes locked with his. “There’s only one person I’ve ever met that can lie to my face, Skywalker, and she’s asleep in the other room,” she said with a low tone before taking a sip of her tea.

“You didn’t report it.”

“Why would I?” she replied. “It doesn’t benefit anyone.”

“It’s forbidden.”

She studied him. He was handsome and had kind blue eyes, much, much different than the yellow ones that she last saw. In the dimness of Opheia’s apartment, he could almost pass for a teenager and she remember that he wasn’t that much older than she was mentally. Maybe two years. She looked down at the tea leaves swirling in her cup. “How do you know?” he asked.

“I have visions,” she said, a lie that was not a lie and a truth that was not a truth. “About the future.”

“Many of us do,” he said in a soft, sad voice and she looked up at him sharply. Sorrow. She heard it echoed in herself. Loss.

“Who did you lose?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He shook his head and she looked away again. After a long moment of silence, she spoke. “Sorrow and grief aren’t inherently evil,” she said. “It’s how we respond that defines us.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn’t dare look up. “Will you tell anyone?” he asked.

“No,” she admitted honestly as she looked back at him. “It isn’t my secret to tell.”

He left and she buried her face in her hands, her body shaking. She didn’t move until the sun started to slip through the drawn curtains and then, it was only to crawl back into bed.

To grieve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I've been working a lot on my original novel. :P
> 
> Hey, check out my Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates and cool stuffs. Plus, I answer any and all asks on Sundays!


	11. from my mouth, i doth speak

Planning. Planning. That seemed to be Opheia’s life now. Laying down bombs to be set off at the precise moment. Problem by problem. Little by little. She did not have much to go on nor did she have much support. Ahsoka was easy to sway and her charismatic attitude managed to wrangle several others, unknowingly, onto her side. Teriata seemed to trust every word that flowed from her mouth. Yoda nodded along with her sly suggestions. Windu was a bit harder to bring in until she named event after event with startling accuracy.

She kept it small. Tea with Yoda. Luncheons with Ahsoka. Strolls with Windu. Nights bent over datapads with Teriata. A few offhanded comments to Master Shaak Ti and Master Plo Koon upon Ahsoka’s suggestion. Kenobi at an arm’s length. Skywalker gathering whispers.

She kept it seperate. No two bits of information went to the same place. She built suspicion in Ti about the clones and their programming along with the Kaminoans. Ahsoka talked to the clones, gathering information she happily shared while boosting morale with her bubbly, lively words (her bounce had yet to leave her step, but her stories carried a burden that weighed on her). Windu and Yoda worked the Council to their advantage, working in tandem while still left in the dark.

This was her job. She took her information. She manipulated it. She molded it. She moved it. Every word she used, she used carefully and expertly.

And by her side, Teriata stood proudly. She harbored more information than anyone else and she used it to pick up Opheia’s pieces, slip past her trip-ups.

Words were Opheia’s weapons, but her lightsabers never stayed by her side.

She trained until her calluses burst, blood sliding down her bandaged fingers. Every second spent away from her words was spent in sparring and reading and writing. Learning. Falling. Standing up. Bruises blossomed across her skin, dark circles under her eyes. Sleep came sparingly, followed by nightmares. She found her rest in meditation, where she let the Force envelop her, reaching farther and farther until she was thrown back out.

By what, she did not know.

“You don’t look so good, Phey,” a familiar voice drifted to her as she went through her stances. Again. Again. Again.

Opheia whipped around, positioning her sabers away from her visitor. 

“Oh,” she smiled at Ahsoka as she deactivated her weapons. Smiles came fleetingly, laughs even less, but the young Togruta always seemed to make her feel just a little bit lighter. “Back from Felucia already?”

Ahsoka raised an eye-marking at her as she tossed her a cold bottle of water. She caught it with ease, taking a long swig of it. “Yeah,” she said as a small smile graced her own lips. “It went well, I think.”

“Good,” Opheia nodded as she started putting her things away. Ahsoka’s gaze remained fixed on her and she glanced back. “What’s up, ‘Soka?”

“My Master asked about you.”

Her motions slowed, but she didn’t stop moving even as her heart stuttered in her chest. “He did?”

Ahsoka nodded, but her confusion mirrored Opheia’s. A tense, long moment of silence passed before Opheia prompted an “And?”.

A faint blush dusted the Togruta’s features as she ducked her head. “He wants to meet you.”

Opheia blinked. “Oh.”

But they already met? Then again, Ahsoka didn’t seem to know that. At least, in the months since she met Anakin Skywalker, she’d never brought it up. “Yeah,” she laughed, the sound a little more awkward than Opheia expected it to. “You are one of my only friends, so he wants to meet you... I guess.”

“Oh,” she said again, the monosyllabic sound much more comprehensive than it had been originally. “How is Barriss anyways?”

Ahsoka tilted her head with a faint smile, “She’s good. We don’t see each other much. I think you’d get along really well.”

“Yes,” Opheia looked at the ground. “I’m sure we would. We should all get lunch together when the war ends. Your Master and my Master too. And Master Kenobi. And Master Yoda too, why not?”

Ahsoka giggled, “Might as well invite the whole Jedi Temple at that point.”

“Brilliant idea!” Opheia bounced to her feet and latched onto Ahsoka’s hands. “We’ll have a huge festival. We’ll invite the clones too and the military commanders.”

Ahsoka beamed at her, “Why not the entire Republic?”

“Why not the entire galaxy?”

They both burst out into laughter, but Ahsoka’s died before hers, cut off abruptly as if some dark thought grasped her mind. Her grip on Opheia’s hands tightened as her bright blue eyes stared down at them. “Do you think the war will end soon?”

The same question always arose when they were together and while Opheia never had a definite answer, with each passing day she said with more confidence. “Without a doubt,” she squeezed Ahsoka’s fingers before releasing her. “Wanna practice some Jar’Kai?”

The Togruta bobbed her head. She walked over to the practice sabers and Opheia trailed behind her. “Phey?” Ahsoka said in a quiet voice.

“Yes?”

Suddenly, Ahsoka turned to her, her eyes closed as she gnawed on her lip. Opheia raised an eyebrow at her. Ahsoka inhaled. Exhaled. She reopened her eyes. “I think it’s going to work.”

“What?” Opheia said with a half-chuckle.

“Whatever you’re planning to do,” Ahsoka said. “I think it’ll work. You’re going to change things and I know it’s going to be for the better.”

Opheia stared at her friend when she turned back around and picked up a practice saber. Her mouth opened, words threatening to spill, but she snapped it shut with a decisive click as the door to the training room slid open. Teriata bustled in, her focus flitting over the two girls. She grinned, but it was a harried smile, one that Opheia only ever saw in her early years as a Padawan when Teriata didn’t quite understand what to do with her. “Ahsoka, I didn’t think you were back yet.”

“Master Teriata!” Ahsoka exclaimed, a smile splitting across her face as she bowed lowly. The two had spent very little time together, but there was no doubt that they got along quite well. “Yes, I just finished my debrief and decided to seek out Phey.”

Teriata laughed and shook her head, “I only wish you two could spend more time together. You deserve to be closer to those your age.”

Opheia gnawed on her bottom lip and turned her gaze to the large windows. If everything went according to plan, the war would be over soon and they could spend more time together. She sighed, looking back at her friend and her Master. “Did you need something from me, Master?”

Teriata’s smile dipped, “Yes, actually. I need to speak with you alone. It’s... Urgent.”

“Oh,” Opheia glanced over at Ahsoka with the practice saber still in her hand.

Ahsoka’s own smile faltered, but she managed to hold it at the last second. “Go,” she said. “I can practice on my own.”

She eyed the Togruta with a frown, “Are you sure?”

“Opheia,” Teriata said. “Please.”

“Go,” Ahsoka placed her hand on Opheia’s shoulder. “We can catch up later.”

“Okay.”

She followed Teriata out of the room and to the refresher, the only room in the Temple not monitored by cameras. Why would Teriata bring her here? Opheia hopped up on the counter, folding her legs together. Teriata leaned against the door. They each cast their Force Vision down the halls. “What’s wrong?” Opheia questioned, her voice low.

“The Council... Well, Windu and Yoda, more specifically, want to speak to me. They said that no one else would be there because of the sensitivity of the topic, but-”

“That’s not unusual,” Opheia said quietly as she picked at a stray thread on her robe. Her crimson ones finally came in and they still smelled new.

“It’s not, but it’s the topic that they want to talk about. It’s a very specific topic. About you.”

Opheia’s head snapped up, but she schooled her features. “Again, not unusual...”

“I have a bad feeling about this one, Opheia. Look, I know that you know how to use Force Sight— you showed that off with Taskfarl, so that’s obvious— do you know how to share?”

She saw now. Opheia nodded once and her Master exhaled. “Good. And I presume you can read lips through Force Sight? This plan won’t work if you can’t.”

“Yes,” she said before adding as an afterthought, “In twenty different languages.”

“Basic will do,” Teriata said with a half-smirk. “Anyways, the plan is-”

“You want me to Force Sight share with you and read Windu and Yoda’s lips during your meeting.”

“No, I want you to-” Teriata paused and sighed. “Yeah, basically. I don’t know if I’ll be able to share this information with you, but I feel like you should know.”

“When does the meeting start?”

“Thirty minutes, I think?” Teriata crossed her arms over her chest. “We need to get you situated somewhere so that no one will bother you. Who knows how long this meeting will last?”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Opheia was sat in her quarters. She plunged herself into her meditation and latched onto Teriata in the Force. Latched onto what Teriata saw with her own Force Sight. Every miniscule movement, like the tiny beating wings of insects forming a tsunami. Terita’s own Force Sight always came out sharper and fuzzier than Opheia’s at the same time.

There were no distinct shapes, which made sense since Teriata’d never seen anything before, but the movement thundered through her. Each wall reverberated back with their presence. The Force was always more acute in Teriata’s Force Sight.

It was exhilarating and exhausting at the same time.

She followed her Master as she left the room, viewing the world through the Miraluka’s presence. She walked with purpose, greeting people with a raised hand. Her presence was unhindered by stress or anxiety unlike Opheia’s own.

Why did they want to talk about her? What did they want to talk about? Why couldn’t she be there? A million questions raced through her head until Teriata sent her a thread of steady calm. She inhaled a sharp breath as Teriata approached the doors to Master Yoda’s meditation chamber.

Windu and Yoda were already seat and they glanced up as Teriata entered. Opheia yanked back her own presence, reeling it in and praying that Yoda didn’t sense her. He seemed unperturbed if he did. They exchanged pleasantries before Windu sighed, her body sagging in the tinies way. “We wanted to speak with you about your Padawan in private.”

Teriata said something, her lips moving in the Force Sight like everything else. Teriata glanced over at Yoda. “A possibility, we must discuss.”

A possibility? Opheia swallowed, her throat burning with the movement. Her Master replied. “We believe that there’s a possibility Opheia might be the Chosen One of Legend.”

Oh. Wait, what? Opheia sent a wave of befuddlement to Teriata who responded with the same reaction. She wasn’t the Chosen One. Anakin Skywalker was the Chosen One. She was just an ordinary Jedi... That happened to get thrown back in time after dying. Opheia shook her head. No. She wasn’t the Chosen One. Teriata seemed to have said the same thing because Yoda sighed. “Mysterious, prophecies are. What they mean, they don't always say.”

“Her ability to see into the future is uncanny and unmatched and may be the key to destroying the Sith.”

She just wanted to end the war and save the Jedi Order. Nothing more. She didn’t plan on killing any Sith personally and definitely didn’t plan on destroying them altogether. She  _ couldn’t  _ do that.

Opheia wasn’t Anakin Skywalker. Force, she wasn’t even Obi-Wan Kenobi or Ahsoka Tano. By Jedi standards, her Midichlorian count was low. Her skills, while notable in some aspects, were almost considered pathetic in others. She wasn’t the Chosen One. She wasn’t!

A sudden feeling washed over her. Someone was watching her. Not in her quarters or with Teriata, but in the Force. She drifted back from her Master. She’d heard all she needed to hear.

She followed the presence in a way that can’t quite be explained in words. The presence had no root source; calling it a presence at all seemed like a over exaggeration, but still, through the Force, she tracked it. It led her out of the Temple, through the sky streets. She didn’t even realize she could reach this far.

Her Force Sight stopped and stuttered in front of the Senate Building and her stomach plummeted.

Cold, icy terror slid over her, a slow process that prevented her from pulling back. Evil. Evil. Evil. She struggled to breath. Struggled to scream. She couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything.

Nothing could prepare her for something like this. Pain prickled at her skull, a high-pitched whining whirring in her ears, drowning out her thoughts.

Compared to this, Anakin Skywalker was a child playing with dolls. Compared to this, he was nothing but a blip of a memory in her mind. Her heart seized in her chest and for a long, dissonant moment, she was dying again with no one to save her. No one to pull her back. No one to-

“ _ Opheia _ !”

Her name ripped through her mediation and the Force, yanking her back into her quarters. Oxygen still refused to fill her lungs, even as her heart rattled in her chest, fighting to pump blood back into her veins. She looked up into wide, terrified blue eyes. Ahsoka? What? Her head whipped around, finding Teriata staring next to her, her fear evident on her face.

She heaved in a deep breath that only left her more starved for air before she lurched towards her wastebin and emptied the contents of her stomach. A delicate hand rubbed up and down her back.

“Are you okay?” Teriata said from her position by the door.

Opheia rested her forehead against the cool metal of the bin, taking in greedy gulps of air. Tremors ran up and down her body, sending goosebumps along her skin and shuddering breaths to her trembling lips. She blinked back against the warm tears and tried to swallow her sobs, but her body refused to listen to her.

Ahsoka’s hand never left her back as her friend watched her with poorly concealed concern and confusion. She didn’t ask why she was here. Even now, she could feel the residue of her terror hanging in the room, maybe in the entire Temple, tainting the Force. It was a wonder Yoda or Windu weren’t here.

“I-” she sighed and raised her head to look at Teriata. “I can’t do this. I’m in way over my head and I don’t know what that was, but I can’t- I just can’t-”

A sob racked her body again as her body crumpled. She pulled her legs up to her chest, burying her face into them as she cried. A hesitant arm rested on her shoulder and she leaned into Ahsoka without thought. After a second, Teriata’s hand settled on her shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”

“We can’t,” Opheia looked up at her. “We can’t defeat them.”

“We can defeat the Separatists,” Ahsoka said in a soft voice.

“No,” Opheia shoved a hand through her hair, her nails scraping against her scalp. “We can defeat them, but we can’t defeat  _ it. _ Whatever it was. We just- We can’t.”

Realization dawned on Teriata’s face as she pressed her lips into a thin line and fell back into a seated position. Ahsoka glanced between them in confusion. “What? What is it?”

For a second, her Master seemed to debate something before she drew something from her pocket and cast it into the middle of the room. A single beep sounded, followed by three more. They could speak freely now. “This is highly confidential information,” she said in a hesitant voice.

Next to Opheia, Ahsoka perked up as her arm continued to rub Opheia’s shoulder monotonously, like she wasn’t aware she was doing it. She didn’t mind though. It was helping to calm her nerves, if nothing else. “I only know because of my status and because my skills might come in handy if we ever discover who it is, but that’s unlikely because everything’s just so muddled now. The Force feels nothing like it did when I was a Youngling and I just can’t-”

“Teriata,” Opheia said softly and Ahsoka giggled.

Her Master paused before exhaling. “Right, stay on track, Teriata,” she shook her head. “The Council believes that there may be a Sith Lord pulling at the strings on the Separatist side. Someone even higher up than Dooku.”

“Higher than Dooku?” Ahsoka echoed, disbelief in her voice.

Teriata nodded, “Yes, but it’s just a suspicion.”

“No,” the word fell from Opheia’s mouth before she could stop it. If there was truly a Sith Lord, then it all made sense. Skywalker’s fall could have been provoked somehow by them. Another piece clicked into place on her puzzle, but pieces were still missing. Still out of place. She stared down at the ground of her quarters. “No, they’re out there. I felt them. I followed them to the- To the- I followed...”

“Phey?” Ahsoka said.

“I can’t remember where I followed the presence to,” she pressed her hand against her forehead as if that would summon the memories forward. “I can’t. It’s gone.”

“But you’re sure of what you felt?” Teriata asked.

“I have no doubt,” Opheia looked up at her Master. “Nothing else could possibly be that evil.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was no update last week! An old friend came to visit me from another state. Hey, if you want updates instantaneously, why not follow me on my Tumblr,
> 
>  [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) 
> 
> . Plus, I answer asks about everything and anything every Sunday so you can get some cryptic answers to plot points, if you so desire.


	12. doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, check out my Tumblr at [Felilla](https://felilla.tumblr.com/) for updates and cool stuffs. Plus, I answer any and all asks on Sundays!

Obi-Wan Kenobi shrugged his tabard back on, doing up the stays with familiar, practiced ease. The presence behind him shifted as she rolled over to face him. “Leaving already, Obi-Wan?” she asked, her voice soft and inviting.

It wasn’t often that he found time to do this, but when he did, he often stayed for a second round or maybe even three. It was relaxing and calming and his dear friend always had an uncanny way of making him feel better. But something had shifted in the Force and to be honest, it unnerved him. “Yes,” he turned to face her. “Sorry, Teriata.”

Teriata grinned at him, a bright expression more accentuated with the top of her face covered. He wondered when she switched from the cloth wrap to the leather one she now wore, black in color and so much more intimidating. She was not something anyone wanted to encounter in a dark alley, that’s for sure. He didn’t respond with the same expression and her smile dropped. “What’s bothering you?” she tilted her head, strands of her dark hair drifting in front of her face. “Did something happen on your last mission?”

He shook his head as he sat down heavily on her bed. They always did this here since Anakin seemed to have a tendency to bother Obi-Wan at the most inopportune moments. At least Teriata’s Padawan had a sense of privacy. At the thought of the young girl, his frown deepened. Behind him, Teriata settled a hand on each of his shoulders. Her deft fingers started to work out some of the tension. “Your Padawan,” he started, leaning into her touch. “Does she concern you?”

Teriata didn’t falter. If he at all rattled her with his question, he sensed no difference in her demeanor, a unique combination of flirty and concerned. “Of course not,” she said, her thumb digging into a particularly tight knot. He winced. “Why would she?”

“Her... Gift... Her ability to see into the future. It’s unusually uncanny, even for a Jedi.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she conceded, her hands moving farther down his back. 

He didn’t feel particularly inclined to tell her to stop. Their sexual relationship was always a bit more intimate than the ones that Obi-Wan shared with others, but he chalked it up to their long-time friendship. Even though she spent most of her time as a Padawan as a Shadow with Madame Nu, they were always particularly close. Her thumb traced up and down his spine. “But I trust Opheia with my life, just like you trust Anakin with yours.”

“She hasn’t been your Padawan for very long though. Anakin and I have known each other for eleven years.”

“One year. Eleven years. Time has nothing to do with it, does it, Obi-Wan? He’s your Padawan,” she squeezed his hips. “He’s like your son, your brother. It’s natural.”

“But where does her power come from, Teriata?” he turned slightly to face her.

Her faint smile never left her face. “Foresight isn’t unusual, Obi-Wan. I predicted my Grandmaster’s death months before it happened, didn’t I? Anakin’s young apprentice, Ahsoka, predicted Amidala’s attempted assassination, didn’t she?”

“But foresight this strong? This accurate?” he placed his hands on her shoulders. “It could be dark and wrong.”

She gently removed his hands, holding them between her own with a soft frown on her lips. “But it isn’t. If it wasn’t for her, so many more of us would be dead. The war would be so much worse. Don’t you see that?”

Obi-Wan’s gaze dropped to their hands and the bedsheets. She released one, letting it drop onto his lap, before she cupped his face and forced him to look at her. It was for him, not her, something to calm him. She smiled again, “Who are we to question why she has this foresight, Obi-Wan? If it helps the Order, then why does it matter?”

Her words were genuine, sincere and kind. Her love for Opheia evident in each syllable spoken. He wanted to listen to her, dismiss his thoughts as mere concern, but the doubt still lingered. Even so, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. She lured him in with a hand on his chest.

* * *

Ahsoka fiddled with a stray string on her leggings as she watched Opheia type on her datapad, her fingers flying across the surface. She was still writing in that language Ahsoka couldn’t read. “And why couldn’t we do this at your place?” the Togruta questioned after several more seconds of silence. “Or in the library?”

Opheia glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, her gaze a little unfocused. She blinked and turned to face her with a mischievous smile. “Because sometimes, Teriata has private things she has to take care of that she can’t do when I’m around.”

Ahsoka bent her head and processed her words. A bright blush spread across her cheeks and lekku before she buried her face into her hands. “Phey!” she exclaimed. “Don’t be so perverse.”

“What?” Opheia shrugged with a chuckle. “I’m just being honest.”

“Ugh,” Ahsoka flung herself back onto her bed dramatically. She raised an eye-marking at Opheia. “Then why not the library?”

“Too many prying eyes,” she said before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small cylinder. “And too big of a radius for this to work.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened as she leaned in closer, snatching the object out of Opheia’s hands. “A jammer?” she flipped it over, fingers gliding over the metallic surface. “Do you think we’re being watched here?”

“We’re being watched everywhere, ‘Soka,” she said. “There’s cameras and microphones in every room in the Temple, except for the refreshers.”

Ahsoka stared at her friend, the nonchalant and confident way she spoke about this kind of thing. It was a marvel to behold and Ahsoka wondered if she ever looked like that. Ever looked so... She paused, shaking her head slightly as she handed the jammer back to Opheia. The redhead beamed at her, scooting a bit closer as she switched out of the tab she was in. “Okay, so I know we haven’t seen each other in a few months since the whole...  _ Sith Lord  _ discussion,” she paused when Ahsoka stiffened and dropped her gaze, her hands tightening into fists. “Hey, hey.”

She placed a hand on Ahsoka’s knee, offering her a warm, genuine smile. It reached her deep green eyes in a way Ahsoka rarely saw with other Jedi. She smiled back, despite the nerves bundling in her chest. “We don’t have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable,” Opheia said and Ahsoka knew that she meant it. 

Opheia wouldn’t hold it against her if she didn’t want to talk about this or anything else. She was pretty sure that Opheia wouldn’t hold it against her if she never wanted to talk to the human again; something told Ahsoka that it might even relieve her if she decided to do that.

But she wasn’t sure if she could stop talking to Opheia. More often than not, she found herself spilling her heart out to the girl in front of her. Why couldn’t she give her the same courtesy? She shook her head, “No, it’s fine. It’s just a little hard keeping this stuff from Anakin.”

“I can understand that. If you feel you have to tell him-”

“No,” Ahsoka shook her head. “He would ask who told me and I don’t want to get you or Master Teriata into trouble.”

Opheia squeezed her knee and pulled back. The lack of contact made Ahsoka startlingly cold. She pulled her knees up to her chest as if that would summon the warmth back into her body. “So, since we haven’t talked since then,” Opheia said, her voice softer this time. “I thought you might want to know some information I might’ve found?”

Ahsoka rested her chin on her knees and smiled. “Absolutely. What’ve you got, oh master spy?”

Opheia giggled and shook her head as she typed something down on her datapad. “Have you heard of Darth Plagueis?”

Ahsoka pursed her lips in thought, “No, I don’t think I-”

“Ahsoka?!” a familiar voice called through the apartment, muffled by the door. “You home, Snips?”

Next to her, Opheia stiffened, her lips pressed into a firm line. Ahsoka blinked at her reaction to Anakin’s voice before standing up. “I’m in here, Master!”

Anakin appeared a few seconds later, a smirk on his lips. “I brought us up some din-” his blue eyes slid over to Opheia and he mirrored her expression. Ahsoka glanced between them in confusion. Was she missing something? “Padawan Heldsworth.”

“Opheia,” Ahsoka corrected before Opheia had a chance to open her mouth. “She uses her first name, Master.”

Her Master’s eyes drifted over to her, a cold expression in them that she only ever saw on the battlefield. “Oh yes, I forgot,” he looked back at Opheia. “My apologies.”

“It’s an understandable mistake,” Opheia gathered her things and rose to her feet in a single graceful moment. Ahsoka looked away, her sharp canines sinking into the soft flesh of her lip. “It sounds like you have dinner plans, so I’ll excuse myself now.”

She walked over to Ahsoka with a soft smile. The Togruta returned the look. “You could stay for dinner,” she said quietly, unconsciously reaching for Opheia’s wrist. She glanced over at Anakin, who watched the exchange with crossed arms and a frown. “If you want, that is.”

“No, it’s fine,” Opheia latched onto Ahsoka’s hand, pressing something cold into her palm. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “I’m going to the Senate Building tomorrow.”

Something flickered in Opheia’s eyes and she looked away for a split second before returning her focus to Ahsoka. Whatever was there before was gone, replaced with thinly veiled disappointment. Ahsoka wanted to wipe that expression off of her face. “Next time then. Message me, kay?”

“Of course,” Ahsoka responded without a second thought.

Opheia squeezed her hand again before she turned away. She offered Anakin a shallow bow and disappeared down the hallway. “Sorry,” Anakin said once she was gone. Ahsoka ran her fingers over the surface of the object in her hand as she turned her gaze to him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt... Whatever that was.”

“We were catching up,” Ahsoka said with a smile. “We don’t get to see each other often.”

“Sounds like you talk a lot though. You’re very...” he looked away, his posture stiffening. “Close.”

“Yes,” Ahsoka walked over to her bed and cleaned up her own mess, discreetly sliding the jammer under her pillow. “I suppose we are.”

Anakin glanced at her again. “Just be careful, Snips,” he said. “Something about her isn’t right.”

She blinked at him before bowing her head. She didn’t respond as she followed him out of her room, even when he picked up a new conversational topic. Her mind wasn’t quite into mechanics at the moment. He was right, of course. Something about Opheia  _ wasn’t _ right. Her words, her intelligence, her kindness. Something about her didn’t sit well with Ahsoka, but not for the reasons her Master likely suspected. 

It didn’t sit well because Ahsoka knew she wasn’t supposed to feel this close to someone.

* * *

Opheia paused on the way back to her room, clinging to the datapad. When she prodded at the Force, she felt a distinct  _ wrongness _ . She’d been, not blind, but willfully ignorant of it before. But now she felt it in every last inch of space around her and beyond. It swirled around the Jedi walking past her. It penetrated her, filling her stomach with dread and nausea.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass and watched the Younglings training in the courtyard below. Once, she’d been like that, but it was so much longer for her than the other Padawans around her. How old would she be now? If she’d survived the purge? She was seventeen, so nineteen? Twenty? Would she still be fighting? Would she have just died later?

No.

She needed to stop this. That wasn’t her life, not anymore.  _ This _ was her life and she was going to make this right.

She was going to save them.

She had to.

She didn’t have any other choice.

Right? 


	13. just out of grasp

In another lifetime, the first attempt at peace failed. The attack on Coruscant brought any and all negotiations to a shuddering halt and that last flowering of hope withered and died. If Opheia had to pinpoint a moment when the Jedi started to lose faith, that was it.

And she prevented it.

Opheia stared out of the window of her and Teriata’s shared rooms, hugging herself. Behind her, Teriata sat at the table, sipping at her tea. Ahsoka stood next to Opheia, just out of grasp. Below the Temple, Coruscant bustled, most of the citizens unbothered by the military in the streets.

It was a hollow victory.

“You should be down there,” Opheia said suddenly, startling herself with the sound of her own voice.

Ahsoka shook her head, her nails digging into the flesh of her arm. “I’m right where I need to be.”

The human glanced at her friend, at the tightness of her jaw and the way her body just barely shook with rage. Ahsoka met her gaze and Opheia watched the fury bubble and crackle behind her eyes, a wildfire of unhinged emotions. She reached out, her fingers settling lightly on the Togruta’s shoulder. Her expression softened, a small shift, but a noticeable one. “I’m sorry. I know I should be happy, but-” she dropped her gaze to the floor. “What are we going to do now, Phey?”

Opheia turned away, but kept her hand on her friend’s shoulder. She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

The words fell from her mouth, foreign after years of having all of the answers. She didn’t know where to go from here though; it was all uncharted territory now. Peace between the Separatists and the Republic was inevitable now, but now Opheia knew that the war was only a surface problem, a front to a much more pressing issue.

Ahsoka was right. They should be happy. Ecstatic. Everyone else was. Force, the Jedi had even planned a private celebration after the parade. But all she felt now was another, heavier burden on her shoulders.

“I do,” Teriata stood suddenly with her hands still wrapped around her teacup. “We’re going to find the Sith Lord. And we’re going to kill him.”

The nonchalance in her voice surprised both of the girls as they looked over at the Miraluka. Teriata leaned against the counter, her back turned to them. “Perhaps that’s not our responsibility,” Opheia said, but even as she spoke the words, she knew it wasn’t true, not even remotely.

“How are we going to find them?” Ahsoka said. “The Council can’t find them; how are we going to?”

Teriata’s attention landed on Opheia. Ahsoka wouldn’t have noticed, but Opheia knew when her Master was focusing solely on her, the shift in the Force and in her demeanor. Opheia shook her head, “I don’t know anymore, Teriata. This is where it ends. This is all I know.”

“That’s not true.”

“But it is!” Opheia shouted. She inhaled and closed her eyes. “I can’t-”

“You connected to him, Opheia,” Teriata turned around and walked towards them. “You  _ felt _ him, not just the aftereffects of his presence. You felt  _ him _ . Who knows, maybe-”

“I’m not the Chosen One!” the words left Opheia’s body in a violent scream.

Ahsoka’s hand settled on her arm and she looked at her. “Phey?”

“Opheia.”

“Sorry,” she sighed and shoved both of her hands through her hair, effectively pulling away from Ahsoka. “Sorry.”

“I don’t think you’re the Chosen One,” Teriata said after a couple of seconds of silence. “But you can’t deny that the Force chose you for a reason. For some reason, you’re connected to the Sith Lord and I think-”

A beep echoed in the room and Teriata’s voice dropped off into silence. She straightened up, sliding her hands into the sleeves of her robe, and walked over to the locked door. It slid open with a familiar and comforting hiss. She blinked at the visitor.

“Good evening, Master Kenobi,” Teriata said, a hint of surprise in her voice.

Kenobi smiled at Teriata and Opheia raised an eyebrow at the interaction. She knew they were friends, but she expected him to be out with the military, clearing up the cleaning bot situation. Not here. “Master Teriata,” he said. “May I speak with you in the hall?”

“Of course,” she followed him out and Opheia and Ahsoka were left alone in the apartment.

Opheia sat down on one of the chairs, with motions so forceful that it skidded against the tile floor. She buried her face in her hands. “The Chosen One?” Ahsoka’s voice sounded from the chair next to her. She raised her head for a split second to look at her before letting it drop again. “Phey? Phey, look at me.”

She glanced up at her, at the concerned and confused expression on her closest friend’s face. “What’s going on?”

Opheia looked away again, instead choosing to focus on the small collection of off-world china on the table. Teriata favored the fancy Naboo dishes to the ones typically found on Coruscant. Something about the tea cooling down faster, but not too fast. Ahsoka shifted next to her and Opheia sighed. “The Council- Or rather, Master Yoda and Master Windu think I might be the Chosen One.”

“But Anakin-”

“Is the Chosen One. Yes,” her hands clenched into fists. “I know.”

Ahsoka’s hand settled over hers, calloused and scarred, but still somehow dainty. Without thinking, Opheia grabbed her hand and flipped it over. She let her fingers trail over the thick calluses formed from holding lightsabers. Her Togruta skin was naturally tougher than Opheia’s, but the difference in thickness was still noticeable. “You would’ve been a farmer,” she said suddenly and Ahsoka blinked, looking up at her. She met her gaze. “If you weren’t a Jedi, I mean.”

“Yeah...” she looked down at her hands again. “You’re probably right.”

“Would you have preferred that?”

Ahsoka paused, which Opheia hadn’t been expecting. She curled her hand around Opheia’s, halting her movements. “I would’ve been kept away from the war,” she said after a second. “I don’t think my tribe’s seen any of the fighting.”

“But would you prefer being a farmer to a Jedi?”

The Togruta raised her gaze to Opheia’s face, her expression soft and searching. Opheia wondered what she was searching for. If she even knew what she was searching for. Would she find the answers somewhere in Opheia’s green irises? “No,” Ahsoka said after a second. “If I wasn’t a Jedi, I never would’ve met Anakin or Obi-Wan or Plo or Teriata. I never would’ve met you, Phey.”

Opheia stared at her. Ahsoka laughed and finally dropped her gaze, “And it probably sounds silly, but if I never met you, then I would probably always feel like something in my life was missing.  _ Someone _ was missing.”

“That’s not true,” Opheia replied. “You’d probably be happier without me. Less worrisome anyways.”

“Shut up,” Ahsoka shook her head. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

She looked at her in disbelief, an eye-marking raised into a perfect arch, as she reached across and latched onto Opheia’s other hand too. “Belittling your existence. You might not be the Chosen One; Force, you might not even be an amazing Jedi-”

“Hey.”

Ahsoka laughed and shook her head. “Opheia, you’re not just a Jedi. That’s the point I’m trying to make here. You’re so much more than that. You’re a good person and you have a gift that ended this war and could end all wars to come.”

“You’re not selling me at the market, ‘Soka. Tone it down.”

“Stop. Look, just...” Ahsoka looked down at their clasped hands. “Just trust yourself, okay? We can do this. We can find the Sith Lord and we can  _ end _ this.”

Opheia shook her head with a small chuckle. She smiled for what seemed like the first time that day. “You’re awfully optimistic about all of this.”

“Well, somebody has to be!”


	14. check

Why hadn’t they made a move? Because of her, everything had been thrown off. Because of her, their plans had been ruined. Because of her, the war was over and the Jedi had won. So where was the Sith Lord?

Months. She waited months for some kind of retaliation. She waited and waited and waited. The Clones were removed from duty, the chips in their brains taken out. That’s what caused it, she found out. That’s why the loyal Clones turned on their Jedi commanders. Shaak Ti explained it to her when they met again. She told her all about the strange chips in their heads and the untraceable code written into them.

The peace negotiations went well. Too well, if you asked her. No one did, of course. Her job was done. Now, the Jedi were spread across the galaxy, helping with the relief efforts. Ahsoka was across the galaxy helping with the relief effort.

Anakin Skywalker was not a monster.

The Jedi were back in control alongside the Senate.

The Senate was the center of the galaxy once again.

So where were they?

Perhaps they won. Perhaps it was over. Perhaps, when Dooku went into hiding, his Master followed.

Then why did she feel so apprehensive? Why did she find Yoda from across the room and see the fear hidden in the depths of his eyes?

Opheia stood in front of the massive doors to the Senate Building, gently using the Force to guide people around her instead of letting them crash into her. Ahsoka was on some other planet, either dealing with the vestiges of combat or handing out food and water rations. It would take a lot for the galaxy to return to its former prosperity.

If it ever did.

She had no desire to go inside. She wasn’t even entirely sure why she was there in the first place. She just wanted to go for a walk, a aimless wandering that led her here.

Some people glanced at her as they passed. She didn’t mind; she was a Jedi. She was used to the stares. And now, without the braid in her hair, she received even more of them. Her Knighting had been a small, private affair. A quiet acknowledgment of all she did to help end the war. She barely remembered it, only that it was a less somber affair than her first Knighting, a quiet and hurried ceremony only she remembered.

“It’s a beautiful building,” a voice said next to her.

She glanced over at Padme Amidala, her eyes glossing over the older woman’s abdomen. “You’re pregnant,” she said matter-of-factly. To the naked eye, it was probably unnoticeable at this point, but since the night they won the war, she’d stopped looking at things with a naked eye. “Is it his?”  
Amidala quirked an eyebrow at her before she huffed out a small laugh. Whether out of amusement or irritation, Opheia couldn’t tell. “Yes,” she nodded. “It is.”

Opheia tilted her head to look at the young Senator. At the glow to her when she spoke about Skywalker. She smiled at her. “Be careful, Senator.”

Something in her eyes told Opheia that she knew exactly what she was talking about. She placed a hand on Opheia’s arm. “Actually, I was hoping I could speak with you? In private?”

“Me?”

“Yes,” Amidala stepped closer, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. “Anakin told me that, for whatever reason, the Council tends to listen to you. I believe I may need their ear.”

Opheia stepped back, her gaze swivelling back to the senate building. She sighed. It couldn’t hurt to speak with her. It’s not like she was doing anything else. “What do you need?”

* * *

The air of Senator Amidala’s office was a lot more welcoming when she invited you in. A handmaiden gave Opheia some tea as soon as she sat down and the Senator herself seemed to prefer to lean against her desk rather than sit behind it. Opheia took a slow sip of the spicy tea. “Sugar?” Amidala questioned as she added a cube to her own cup.

“No, thank you,” Opheia kept her gaze on Amidala’s neck, on her carotid artery and how it pulsed. She was anxious, but not because of the Jedi sitting in her office.

She sent her handmaiden away with a quiet thank you and a reassurance that this was a civil business. And then there were two. Opheia couldn’t even sense the other woman in the same room. If she roamed far enough with her mind, she was all the way down the hall, likely getting some food. Opheia turned back to the young Senator, who watched her with an even gaze.

“Do you follow politics, Pad-”

“Knight,” Opheia said softly and Amidala swung her head around to look at her. The redhead cleared her throat. “I’m a Knight now, Senator. But you can just call me Opheia.”

The Senator’s eyes flickered over her hair, likely searching for the braid to confirm that she was telling the truth. Opheia didn’t blame her. Physically, she was much too young to be a Knight. “In that case, please call me Padme,” she said.

Opheia wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with that, but she nodded anyways. “Anyways,” Padme blew on her drink delicately. “Do you follow politics, Opheia?”

“Not necessarily,” Opheia stared down at her drink, watching the leaves swirl on the bottom of the cup. “I will if I need to research a particular event.”

Padme considered her. “Are you a researcher then?”

She glanced up at her, “Of sorts.”

Understanding flashed in the brunette’s eyes and she rose to her feet to stare out the large windows. Opheia tracked her movements with her eyes and with her mind. “Did your research involve me and my husband?”

Husband? Opheia’s eyebrows shot up, “I wasn’t aware you were married.”

“Oh,” Padme turned back to her. “Anakin made it sound like you knew everything.”

Her eyes flickered to the Senator’s stomach and then back to her eyes. “I know enough,” she said before setting down her cup. “What is it you needed, Senator?”

“Padme.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Padme finally sat down in her ornate office chair, folding her hands in front of her. Sitting in front of her, Opheia believed every story she heard about the courageous former Queen of Naboo. “If you followed politics, perhaps you would’ve noticed that the elections for the chancellery are coming up.”

“Oh, I know that,” Opheia replied. Everybody knew that. With the war over, there was no reason for Palpatine to remain Chancellor. He’d already outstayed his two term limit due to the crisis.

“That’s good to hear,” Padme nodded as she poured herself enough cup of tea. She was stress-drinking, Opheia realized. “Because it seemed that the Chancellor himself has forgotten that fact.”

Opheia stared at Padme for several seconds in complete silence. Padme nodded. “Palpatine is refusing to relinquish his position on the basis that the Senate is still rebuilding,” she said. “And while that is true, I’m afraid he’s already been in power for too long.”

And he’d been in power for even longer during Opheia’s first lifetime. She looked away, “What are you trying to say, Padme?”

Padme sighed. “Before I say anything, I need to know that I can trust you completely,” she said and Opheia looked back at her. “I can’t risk this information getting into the wrong hands and the only reason I trust you at all is because Ahsoka cares so much about you.”

Opheia fell silent. She looked down at her drink again. Did she really want to get involved again? She won the war. Maybe that was enough.

But it wasn’t.

“I only have the interests of the citizens of the galaxy at heart,” she replied, staring into Padme’s light brown eyes. “Nothing else.”

Something flickered in Padme’s eyes, an emotion that Opheia couldn’t quite pinpoint, before she smiled and shook her head. “Yes, I heard as much from Ahsoka,” Padme said.

Opheia ducked her head as heat raced up to her face. She exhaled. “What is the message you need me to deliver to the Council?”

* * *

Opheia always waited for Ahsoka to return in the hangar now. With the war over, she was given more freedom to wander. Before, she was too much of an asset.

She just wished she wasn’t waiting next to a medic. It made her anxious, even though Ahsoka told her only a few minutes before they entered orbit that she was fine. But Opheia knew better than anyone that “fine” could mean a million different things. And even through a holo, Opheia could tell that something was off with the Togruta. Her voice didn’t sound quite right and she dropped her gaze when she said “fine”.

The war was over. Ahsoka shouldn’t look like that.

The Twilight landed without much excitement and the three Jedi that exited looked haggard and less than “fine”. Opheia resisted the urge to run up and pull Ahsoka into her arms, instead letting the medic go ahead of her. She wrapped her arms around her own body instead.

Ahsoka nodded along to the medic’s questions and spoke in short sentences. Her gaze continued to drift over to Opheia until she was examined and dismissed. Almost immediately, the Togruta bolted across the room, barrelling into Opheia with enough force to send her stumbling back. She glanced over at Skywalker, who eyed her warily, before returning the hug with a quick squeeze.

When Ahsoka pulled away, Opheia was shocked to find the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “Hey, hey,” she placed her hands on Ahsoka’s shoulders before jerking back, startled by how cold her skin was. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to report to the Council in an hour,” Ahsoka said, her voice thick with emotion. “But is there somewhere private we can talk before then?”

“Yes, of course,” Opheia glanced back over Skywalker, whose expression softened. “Let’s go to my room.”

* * *

“And you... Died?” Opheia confirmed, not quite believing the words coming from her closest friend’s mouth despite the fact that she too died once before.

Ahsoka nodded from her spot on Opheia’s bed. She managed to pull all of the sheets out and bundled herself up in them. Opheia’s hand dragged up and down her back lekku, trying to bring some warmth back to her body. “And how do you feel?” she asked, not quite sure what to say. “Not just about dying. About the whole thing. The Family. Mortis. Being... Possessed?”

“Not great,” Ahsoka rolled over onto her back, staring up Opheia. “I just... Something feels wrong. And I’m so cold.”

As if on cue, a shudder racked her body. The Togruta paused before she tentatively reached for another one of Opheia’s spare blankets. The human draped it over her without a second thought and Ahsoka snuggled into it, burying her face into the fabric. She raised her gaze to Opheia again. “Why do you have so many blankets?” she questioned.

Opheia glanced around her room, at the the three or four blankets bundled around her friend and at the other three folded on top of the chest carrying her few possessions. Her eyebrows furrowed. “I get cold a lot...” she said. 

“Explains why you’re always wearing your robes,” Ahsoka said, one of her hands emerging from her blanket pile to play with the end of Opheia’s red robe.

“Yeah,” Opheia shook her head. “You said something feels wrong?”

Ahsoka looked up at her, blue eyes still the same glittering blue they’d always been. A soft white glow filtered out from around her body. Opheia blinked and it was gone. “I don’t feel dark, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said, sounding genuinely concerned that Opheia was trying to imply that.

“No, no,” Opheia pressed her hand against Ahsoka’s cheek. “Somehow I doubt that you could ever go dark, ‘Soka.”

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Ahsoka gnawed on her bottom lip and dropped her gaze. “But I did,” she said, her voice breaking.

“‘Soka,” she said and after a moment’s thought, she pulled out the blankets and clambered in next to her. She pulled Ahsoka into a tight hug and the Togruta sniffled against her robes. “That wasn’t you. It wasn’t you.”

“But it was,” Ahsoka said in a soft tone. “Every negative thought, every insecurity, every little bad thing I’ve ever felt came flooding to the surface. I just... I couldn’t-”

“Shhh,” Opheia rubbed her hand up and down Ahsoka’s back. “It’s okay.”

“You can’t tell Anakin,” she said suddenly. “He doesn’t know I remember. I don’t want him to know. I don’t want to worry him.”

“It’s okay, Ahsoka,” she pulled back and wiped the tears away from her eyes, her fingers lingering on her cheeks. 

She smiled softly at her and the Togruta returned it with a faint one of her own. It twitched and faltered and she looked down, away from Opheia’s eyes. “I saw you,” she said after a second.

“What do you mean?”

“When I died,” she said. “I saw you. Only you. Before Anakin brought me back, you told me to go back. That it wasn’t my time yet? Something like that.”

Opheia stared at Ahsoka for several long seconds before pulling her back into a hug. She stared out the window over her head, watched the sky.

“It’s okay. It’s all over now,” she said, repeating the words until the alarm she set went off and Ahsoka left with some of Opheia’s spare robes draped over her freezing body.

“Thank you,” she said on her way out. She grasped the front of the robes, burying herself in them as much as possible, but they were a little small in terms of length. She still shivered in them, though she tried to hide it. Opheia half-wanted to pull her back into their blanket fort and keep her warm. She’d bring her some more blankets later, after her meeting with the Council.

“For what?” Opheia questioned.

“Anakin might’ve brought me back, but I think you’re the reason I  _ wanted _ to come back.”

Opheia shook her head, “You give me too much credit, ‘Soka.”

“I give you just enough,” she replied before she turned away. She paused and turned back around. “Oh, I forgot to mention, I felt it.”

“Felt what?”

“The Sith Lord.”

The door slid closed with a hiss and Opheia fell back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. What did this mean? What did any of this mean? It meant she wasn’t the Chosen One, thank the Force. But she felt the Sith Lord? But if Ahsoka felt them, then that implied that Opheia probably didn’t have a special connection to him. She just dove deep enough to feel  him out.

Which meant that others could do it to. All they had to do was grasp them.

* * *

It’d been awhile since she’d been in here. With no battles to advise on and no deaths to prevent, she had little need to be here. “About the Sith Lord, you know?”

Opheia glanced over at Master Yoda. He looked so much older, hardened by war, the centuries finally closing in on him. He had not died in the purge, she was certain of that, but he had, eventually, died. “Yes,” she said softly. “I do.”

She didn’t offer any further explanation. She didn’t even mean to end up in here after she delivered Senator Amidala’s concerns, but here she was. And with the crushing, overwhelming threat of a Sith Lord looming over them, she felt obligated to admit the truth. Yoda regarded her with a questioning gaze, but didn’t pressure her. She hadn’t had a “premonition” since the war ended, but it seemed her influence hadn’t faltered yet. “Know how to find him, do you?”

“I have an idea.”

“Hmm?”

“What if...” she paused and watched him. She only had ideas. Hypotheses. Thoughts flitting around her head like moths around a flame. Any concrete evidence was gone now. She relied on intuition, but when she thought about it, intuition is what got her through the war the first time. “What if everyone meditated simultaneously to seek out the Sith Lord?”

She’d never seen the small green Master look so confused before. Not when she introduced herself as a Knight several years ago. Not when she accurately predicted the strangest occurrences. He squinted at her, “That, the Council already-”

“No,” she shook her head and raised her gaze to his face. “Everyone in the Order, Master Yoda.”

His expression raised into one of surprise and, she noted with no hint of humility, pride. There was a twinkle in his eye again. The room filled with a lightness that had long since clouded the Temple. Since the war. She could breathe again in a way she hadn’t been able to before. “A good plan, it is,” he said. “But secret, the Sith Lord is.”

She leaned forward. “With all due respect, Master Yoda, secrets aren’t going to help in this case. The Council needs to be transparent about this, if nothing else. I’ve seen what the man has-can do. What his influence can sow. He is an enemy that we all need to face. Together.”

Yoda chuckled. “Wise, you are. But not everyone on the Council will agree.”

She blinked at him before she ducked her head. “I considered that as well, but if we can get as many Padawans, Knights, and Masters to agree as possible, then I’m certain we can locate the Sith Lord. All I ask is one thing, Master.”

“What is it, young one? Though young as I believed, you are not.”

She swallowed, her fingers twitching her lap. “You’re going to send Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano to kill the Sith Lord, I know. When you do, I want to go with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of an update last week. I've been working nonstop. ^.^'


	15. history

A hush fell over the Temple, a silence interrupted only by the cleaning droids and the closed off room of younglings. And even they were quiet, their minds driven to drowsiness from the air that hung through the Temple. Those not participating in the mass meditation sat alone in their rooms. Some stared out of windows. Others at their ceilings. A few drank tea or read in the silence. Even they felt the shift in the atmosphere. 

The rest of the Jedi breathed, their hearts and souls linked in unison, bound by something deeper than a connection.

Bound by a Force.

Opheia sat in her room, isolated from the others. Isolated from the Council in the Council Room. Isolated from the Padawans in the Hall of Meditation. The Knights in the garden. The Masters spread out periodically through the halls. She sat alone, in the darkness of her room, her heart beating with and apart from those she called comrades.

Skywalker’s presence permeated the session, warm and effervescent. Yoda’s signature was saturated with wisdom and age, Windu’s with steadfastness and observance. Teriata’s was small, but moved through the rest of them with familiar ease. Kenobi’s held strong, a kind presence with great sorrow. Ahsoka’s glowed bright, brighter than it ever did before.

Opheia inhaled as she dove deeper, past the sea of souls, and into the uncharted waters of the Force. One by one, the Jedi followed her, unknowingly, drawn in by a soul different from theirs.

The pain came first, the harrowing guilt of surviving when all else died. The pain of a lightsaber, striking through the chest. Thousands screaming, their pleas pounding against ears as their outstretched limbs scratched down skin.

Opheia resurfaced with a sharp gasp, screams stalled in her throat. She felt... Empty, cold. Marble pressed into her face as she struggled to take oxygen into her lungs. Her dying lungs. She clawed at the ground, nails screeching against stone. Inch by tedious inch, she dragged herself forward, warmth sliding against her freezing skin. Blood. Blood sliding against her lifeless skin.

She was dying. Again.

“Who are you?” a voice questioned, raspy and grim. A wheeze, an exhale.

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling of the Temple. She always loved the ceilings, the high ceilings. She used to imagine climbing up the pillars and hanging from the rafters, but she was never brave enough to try. She’d surely get into trouble if she did. “Who are you?” a new voice questioned, Ahsoka’s voice.

She turned her head, but the Togruta was nowhere to be found.

“Who are you?” Teriata questioned and she closed her eyes. Teriata couldn’t be here; she just couldn’t be.

She wanted to cry, but she had no more tears to shed. She finished this part of her story, she reminded herself. She moved past the grief. Past the sorrow. The Force, she reminded herself. She was nothing but an extension of the Force, a tool to put the Galaxy back in order.

She closed her eyes, exhaled, and plunged deeper.

“You okay?”

Opheia opened her eyes to find Ahsoka smiling at her. Sweet Ahsoka. But this Ahsoka was hardened, hardened by something deeper than war. She held the same loss in her eyes that Opheia did. She was taller, montrals higher, lekku longer. Older, wiser. Without thinking, she reached out and stroked the Togruta’s cheek. “Sorry, lost in my thoughts,” she said in a voice that was deeper than it ever was, but was distinctively hers. “My meditation took a different turn than I hoped it would.”

“It happens to me too,” Ahsoka leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Opheia’s. She didn’t pull away. The gesture felt  _ right _ . Good. “But we survived.”

“Some of us more intact than others,” Opheia joked, startled by her own dark humor. But she felt happy. Comfortable even, with a small amount of anxiety hidden at the back of her mind.

“Well yes,” Ahsoka pulled back, an amused expression on her face. “But you did survive, love.”

Love? Opheia glanced at her surroundings, finding herself in the cramped quarters of a small ship.  _ The Nova _ , her mind crooned to her as if she was supposed to recognize the name. She turned back to Ahsoka as she laced their fingers together. A familiar gesture. “Will you come to bed now, Opheia? We only have a few more days together before we have to separate again.”

“Separate?” the word fell from Opheia’s mouth, heavy and saddened. Her lips moved without her again. “We’re never apart, dearest one.”

“No,” Ahsoka responded as she leaned in closer, her face inches from Opheia’s. Her eyes slid closed. “Not even the Empire can keep us apart.”

Soft skin pressed against her lips as she exhaled.

She plunged deeper.

Nothing. A vast emptiness devoid of distinct souls. Devoid of emotion. Of senses. Only it was more than nothing, stronger. The Force.

Opheia waded in it, peace filling her for the first time since she died. The first time since the war started. Perhaps the first time since she was born. She wasn’t drowning. She wasn’t happy nor scared nor mournful.

Just peaceful.

She wanted to stay here forever. Perhaps this is where she would’ve ended up, if the Force wanted her to. But she couldn’t.

She turned around and she dove deeper.

She felt it, but it didn’t fill her with dread this time. She knew what to expect. She reached out towards the fringes, grasping at the strings. She pulled him in close and whispered, her voice soundless and booming. “I know who you are.”

* * *

“Opheia! Please wake up. Please. Please...”

Ahsoka? Opheia tried to open her eyes, tried to reach out to her dearest friend—  _ dearest one _ — but her body wouldn’t obey. “Do something!” Teriata shouted at someone. “Please, Master Yoda.”

“She’s fading,” a kind of familiar, but not quite familiar voice, said.

Fading? “I’m losing her,” the voice said. “Stand back, Padawan Tano!”

Ahsoka’s familiar hand slipped into hers as the voice muttered a curse. Ahsoka’s breath ghosted over Opheia’s face, smelling of the chemical substance that Togruta used to clean their teeth. “It’s not your time yet, Opheia,” she whispered, her voice just barely loud enough for Opheia to hear. “You still have to finish this. You still have to- Opheia? Hey, Opheia?”

“Ahsoka,” Skywalker said, his voice heavy with secondhand sorrow.

“Come.”

Opheia turned towards the voice, finding her body slumped against the wall. Ahsoka stared at her with a stunned expression before she crumpled, a choked and tormented moan leaving her body. She bent over, burying her face into Opheia’s red robes. Skywalker knelt next to her, his hand on her shoulder. When he tried to pull her back, she clung tighter. “Come back!” she screamed, pounding her fist against the ground as tears streamed down her face. “Please...”

“Come.”

Opheia turned to Teriata, pressed back against the opposite wall, her hand over her mouth. “I don’t...” she murmured. “I don’t understand.”

Without permission, she spun around and buried her face into Kenobi’s robes. Kenobi, who seemed equally stunned by these events, held her against him. She didn’t cry; Miraluka don’t cry, but her body shook with the force of her sorrow.

“Come.”

Yoda watched with a saddened expression, his age not quite able to reveal his misery. He would move past this, she knew, but not right now. He turned and he left, the action seemingly cold, but not without a new heaviness in his addled gait.

“Come.”

They all left. The Healer, Skywalker, Kenobi and Teriata. Until only Ahsoka was left, her tears gone with the sun. She kept her face buried in Opheia’s robes, her fingers clenched in the fabric. Opheia stepped towards her.

“We found him, Opheia,” Ahsoka’s voice cut through the silence, cracking and soft. “That’s why Windu wasn’t here, you see. The Council. They... They went to arrest him and his guards, without us. If he escapes, we’re the backup plan. Master and I and... You. You’re finally going to get off of Coruscant again, maybe. Wouldn’t that be exciting, Opheia?”

“Come.”

“No,” she stepped back from the scene, her head ducking as a laugh bubbled in her chest and a smile wobbled onto her lips. She chuckled as she lifted her gaze. “You’re sick, you know that?”

Her surroundings faded as Ahsoka stood, her body suddenly shrouded in shadows until it was no longer the dear girl she knew. “The thought was already there, I just set the scene,” the Sith Lord said. “How did you know this one was fake?”

“Ahsoka calls me ‘Phey’.”

“Ah, a minor miscalculation on my part then. I didn’t think you partial to nicknames. I tried a little of everything, you know, but it just won’t seem to stick.”

“It’s not going to ‘ _ stick _ ’,” she retorted, throwing as much venom as she could into her words. Hatred flowed from her. “I will kill you, Sidious.”

“I’m sure you will, little girl.”

She stepped towards him, her steps lighter than they’d been in years. “Do you not understand?” she asked, a laugh in her words. “You’re outmatched here. Skywalker? He’s good. The Jedi? They’re safe. Your clones? They’re  _ free _ . So run. Run to the edges of the galaxy. Hide in your deepest caverns, call to your traitorous servants, drown in your flimsy power for all I fucking care. But understand this. No matter where you go, who you summon, or what you try, I’ve already seen your worst; you can do whatever you want to everyone else, but you can’t hurt me anymore. And I won’t stop until I see you dead.”

She resurfaced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my absence. I kinda lost inspiration for this, but thanks to the new announcement {*cough* Clone Wars *cough*}, I've got it back. :) Hope y'all enjoyed. Be sure to leave a comment.


	16. purpose

Sidious emerged from his meditation with a shout of frustration. Everything, every last detail, was falling apart because of some miniscule girl. What significance did she have? And how did she know so much? He jolted into a standing position, pacing across the floor of his office.

The Jedi knew who he was now and he could feel his power slipping through his fingers like water. He needed to get off-planet and summon- He stopped.  _ Summon your traitorous servants _ . Summon who? Dooku vanished without a trace and his apprentice was nothing more than a mercenary. Maul abandoned the cause long ago and most of the Senate was already trying to remove him from power.

And Anakin Skywalker, his last chance at ruling the galaxy, the only thing standing in his way was  _ good _ . He had nothing, no one to turn to but the servants and spies that he paid and money could only buy one so much loyalty.

He was losing.

A laugh bubbled in Sidious’s chest as she raised his gaze to look out over Coruscant. Failure was a new experience. All of the lost battles, all of the revoked bills had been nothing but minor setbacks in his grand plan, but this was different. New, raw.

It unhinged him as he donned his black cloak and sat in his chair. “Let them come,” he decided, cackling with his words. “Let them come and I will show them true power.”

* * *

 

“No!” Skywalker’s shout cracked through the halls, startling Opheia as she approached the Council Room.

Teriata placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “You are safe, Opheia.”

Opheia’s cheeks burned. The visions Sidious filled her head with reopened old wounds and it left her fidgety and uncomfortable. Maybe she just need to lie down.

They entered the room as Skywalker shouted again in denial. She watched his reactions with the most passive face she could manage. It made sense now, why a Naboo senator put so much effort into befriending a young Jedi. Palpatine was grooming him, gaining his trust in order to ring him to the Dark Side. She still wondered what made him turn.

Ahsoka turned as Opheia and Teriata entered, but Opheia immediately lowered her gaze. The visions also left her with unanswered questions about her dear friend— _ dearest one _ —that would need to be spoken about eventually, just not right now.  “Palpatine is not the Sith Lord!” Skywalker continued, apparently unperturbed by their added presence.

Obi-Wan sighed from his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know that your judgement is clouded when it comes to the Chancellor, but-”

“It’s not,” Skywalker pressed. “He’s a politician. He can’t be-”

“But he is,” Opheia interjected and they all turned to look at her. “You can’t deny what you saw, what we _ all  _ saw.”

Skywalker narrowed his eyes at her, his lips pressed into a thin line. Even from across the room, she could sense his anger. Everyone could. She flinched, but stood her ground. “Now, we can either argue or fix the problem.”

“ _ You’re _ the problem,” he growled and started to make his way towards them before Teriata glided in front of her. 

A few members of the Council rose to their feet as well, the tension in the room hanging tightly between all of them, ready to snap and break everything she’d worked for apart. She shivered.

“Calm down, Skywalker,” Windu commanded from his seated position. “There is no use in bickering amongst ourselves.”

“Defeat the Sith Lord, we must,” Yoda agreed, tapping his gimmer stick on the floor. “Resolve this later, we will.”

“For now, we must discuss who is going after Sidious. I will lead a team of volunteers.”

Opheia paused, lifting her head to stare at Windu and Yoda. She stepped forward yet again, “Master Yoda?”

Yoda didn’t even glance at her as he nodded with Windu’s statement. “Go, I will.”

“Me too,” Skywalker stated, but Windu shook his head.

“You can’t go. You’re too heavily tied to this. You and your padawan will act as backup, should anything go wrong.”

Ahsoka nodded to agree, but Skywalker merely glared. No Skywalker or Ahsoka? Was her initial assumption wrong? “Master Yoda,” she pleaded again. “We talked about this.”

“We did, yes,” Yoda glanced over at her.

“You will remain in the Temple,” Windu stated.

Opheia’s stomach twisted, her lungs constricting. No. No, she had to be there. She had to see Sidious dead. If not by her own hand, then by someone else’s. She needed to see his corpse. “I have to go,” she said, earning a strange look from Skywalker. “Please, Masters.”

“No,” Windu shook his head. “You’re too valuable and you’re not destined for this fight.”

“Seen it, I have,” Yoda agreed.

“No...” she turned to her Master. “Teriata, tell them.”

Teriata was silent for several seconds before she placed her hand on Opheia’s shoulder. “I will go in her stead,” she said, earning a nod from Windu.

“Teriata,” Opheia hissed, but her Master gave her shoulder a squeeze, telling her to be quiet.

She listened, watching as several other Masters volunteered and the meeting was dismissed to prepare. When they exited the doors, Opheia pulled away from Teriata. “How could you?” she snapped. “You know I need this.”

“Vengeance?” Teriata hissed before pulling her into one of the small mediation rooms to the side of the Council Room. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Your desire to-”

“My desire to end this?” Opheia shoved her hands through her hair, clutching at her scalp. “I can’t live with this, Teriata. I can’t live with the nightmares and the guilt and the pain of standing by and doing nothing. I don’t even know if I can live after this is all over.”

Her words hung in the air, potent and foreboding. Opheia’s shoulders slumped as she leaned back against the door. Teriata stepped back. “You’re looking for a suicide mission,” she whispered, clearly horrified at the prospect. “Aren’t you? Force, Opheia-”

“No,” Opheia replied, even though her denial sounded like a lie, even to her. She exhaled. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Opheia opened and closed her hands, staring at the way they moved at her command, distracting herself from the dull ache in her chest. “I shouldn’t be alive.”

Teriata laughed, the sound borderline hysterical. “Don’t say that.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. That’s not what I meant,” she looked up at her Master, tears itching at the edges of her eyes. “I died, Teriata. And now I’m alive and breathing and fixing mistakes that I shouldn’t even be able to fix. I’m not supposed to be alive. My story was supposed to end in the halls of the Temple while I tried and failed to save the Younglings. Yet here I am, doing everything I shouldn’t be able to do.”

“Opheia, I don’t understand,” Teriata replied.

“It’s naive to think that once I’ve fulfilled my purpose, the Force will let me continue to live,” Opheia said as she opened the door. “And I’d rather die doing something that actually matters.”

She turned around, only to come face to face with a shocked Ahsoka. The Togruta stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. Opheia stepped back, her fingers curling to fists. “How much did you hear?” she questioned as she turned her gaze to the ground.

“Enough,” Ahsoka exhaled.

Before anyone could stop her, Opheia pushed past Ahsoka and into the hall. She walked at first, but when Ahsoka called to her, she broke out into a sprint, aiming for the lower levels, where the storage was kept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little chapter. Hope y'all enjoyed it.


	17. grief

She was alone.

The Temple was filled with a new kind of life, one that the war tramped into the ground. It glowed within the Force, warm candlelight buried in the Order.

It fought to calm Opheia's anxieties and failed. She paced back and forth in her and Teriata's apartment, hands clasped over her churning stomach. She hadn't slept. Hadn't eaten and aside from a quick good morning to the Knight posted outside her door to prevent her from leaving, she hadn't spoken.

She turned, following her path back to the other side of the room. The volunteers left before dawn, along with a dozen clean clones, to infiltrate the Senate.

Force, a million things could go wrong. Attacking Palpatine in his territory was a stupid idea. Absolutely, abhorrently stupid. He was still Chancellor. He could declare the Jedi traitors and attempt to have them arrested. He could ambush them. But what other choice did they have unless he travelled off-planet, which the Jedi posted at the planet's transportation stations would have noticed?

Opheia completed another circle and spun around, blinking at the unexpected visitor standing in the doorway. “Madame Nu,” she said before shaking her head and bowing to the elderly librarian.

“I see that you share my concerns, Opheia.”

Opheia exhaled before she sat down heavily on the couch. Her eyes were drawn to chrono on the wall. Ten minutes until they attacked. “I fear we might be the only ones.”

“Hope is not an inherent danger, but it can cloud one's judgement.”

She smiled at Madame Nu then looked down at her fidgeting hands. A moment later, the librarian sunk down next to her. “Something feels wrong,” Opheia said.

“Dread,” Madame Nu responded, just as softly. “I feel it too. Shall we wait to see what comes of it together?”

What other choice did they have?

* * *

 

Opheia awoke to the sound of voices. She couldn't remember her dream, not clearly, but it hollowed a pit of sorrow into her chest that made her body feel heavy. She slowly ventured out of her bedroom as the dread returned.

“No, we should let her sleep,” Madame Nu's voice said.

“She's going to find out sooner or later.”

Ahsoka? She sounded... Angry? Opheia stepped into the living area, finding Madame Nu and Ahsoka hovering by the door. The togruta glanced over at her, a pain expression flickering across her face. She looked away. “Find out what?” Opheia questioned hesitantly. before her eyes flickered to the leather grasped in Ahsoka's hand. The leather mask in her hand.

Opheia's legs gave out underneath her and she was distantly aware of the pain the impact sent racing up her legs. “No,” she croaked out. “No, no. Teriata?”

Ahsoka's grip on the mask tightened as she glared down at the floor. “Sidious killed her.”

“Who else?” Opheia asked quietly. She was honestly terrified of the answer.

“Obi-Wan was-” Ahsoka paused as a sniffle escaped her. “He was injured trying to save her. No one else.”

Opheia planted her hands on the ground and inhaled shakily. She stood, looking in the general direction of the two, but keeping her eyes downcast. “You should be with Kenobi and Skywalker, 'Soka,” she said. “Now, if you'll excuse me.”

She dodged around them, spinning away from Ahsoka's attempt to grab her arm.

Once she was in the hallway, she ran. She ran. And ran. And ran. She ran until it felt like her lungs were going to burst. And there, in the storage units of the Temple, devoid of any other life, she screamed.

Opheia crumpled, the pain in her chest worse than when she died. On the metal floor, she cried until her sobs gave way to empty, tearless dry-heaving, and her heart felt like it was going to explode  
Teriata was dead. One of the few people that survived the Purge, or she suspected survived it, died at the hands of a monster.

Rage courses through Opheia, an icy fury that crept across her skin. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to pay for what he'd done.

She wanted to make him suffer.

Opheia gasped, flinging herself back into one of the crates. A chill filled the room, dancing across her skin like water. No. She shook her head, throwing out her arms. Her words echoed back to her, malicious and dark.

Panic curled in her gut and she pulled her arms back in to protect herself, pressing her hands against her ears as if that would quiet the echoing in her head. “Shut up!” she screamed, at nothing and at no one. “Get out!”

A hand touched her shoulder, calming her, but when she whirled around, she was alone.

She cried.

* * *

 

Ahsoka found Opheia nestled between two large crates of fruit, her face buried in her knees and shoulders shaking. She waited a few steps away from her, waiting- No, _willing_ the redhead to acknowledge her presence.

  
Questions pounded. Pounded in her head, against her memories, within her heart. Teriata was gone and Opheia was mourning, but despite how much she wanted to comfort her, she knew that she needed answers. But she didn't speak.

“Did she die honorably?” Opheia questioned, her voice croaky and cracked.

Ahsoka ignored her question in favor of asking one of her own. “Do you want to die?”

She raised her eyes to the togruta's face and the expression shattered her heart. Ahsoka couldn't deny that in that moment, she would've done anything, anything to make Opheia smile at her. It was a dangerous thought, one Masters Obi-Wan and Yoda would warn against, but she couldn't stop it, no matter how hard she tried.

She sat down instead, crossing her legs in the position she often adopted while meditating.  
“I don't think you died,” Opheia said after a moment and it appeared that they were avoiding questions together.

Ahsoka's jaw worked before she swallowed thickly and looked down at her lap. “You died,” she said.  
“I did.”

She looked up, meeting Opheia's gaze. “What happened?”

“I don't think you want to know.”

Ahsoka laughed humorlessly. “No, I don't think I do, but,” she offered Opheia a half-hearted smile. “I think I should. You're my...” she paused, the questions in her heart rising to the surface again before she shoved them down for the matter at hand. “My best friend, Phey. I want to know when you're suffering. And why. So I can help. If you need to talk about Teriata-”

She dropped off when her friend flinched back. Opheia turned her gaze to the ceiling, leaning back on her hands. “I've been suffering for a long time, 'Soka.”

Ahsoka frowned and stared down at her lightsabers on her belt. If not for Opheia, she doubted she would have ever picked up jar'kai, but she was right when she said she'd love it. She was right about so many things.

She looked up at her sorrowful friend before closing the space between them and pulling her into a tight hug. She didn't let go. Didn't want to let go. Opheia relaxed into her touch, her head leaning into Ahsoka's chest.

This was right. Ahsoka doubted so many things now, like peace and the Jedi and the purpose of war, but Opheia was concrete. She never doubted her friend and her intentions.

 _Opheia_ was right.

“I'm sorry that I couldn't help you then, but I'm here now.”

“I know,” she said, her breath tickling the tips of Ahsoka's lekku. “And I know you want answers.”

Ahsoka wanted to deny that. To just comfort Opheia the way she need to be comforted at the moment. But... “I do.”

Opheia pulled back, wiping at her eyes with the sleeves of her robe. She offered Ahsoka a watery smile. “I was a Jedi Knight for two weeks, three days, seven hours, and thirty-six minutes before I died...”

Ahsoka listened to Opheia, transfixed by her words. It was painful and horrible to hear about and Ahsoka couldn't imagine living through something so galaxy-shattering. But she did. Opheia made it clear that as far as she was aware, Ahsoka did not die in the genocide. And that made sense because Ahsoka also wasn't a Jedi at the time.

Her head sounds with the new information, but something about it sat a little too heavily in her gut, a sorrow that wasn't hers, but was hers at the same time. She hadn't lived through this reality like Opheia did, but something deep inside her told her that she also wasn't oblivious to it.

When Opheia finished, silence fell between them. Contemplative, not uncomfortable. Ahsoka bit her lip for a second before meeting Opheia's gaze. “Who killed the Jedi?” she asked, realizing that Opheia chose to omit that part of her story.

Opheia's expression fell before she shook her head. “That is something I can't tell you.”

“It was Anakin, wasn't it?”

Her friend stared at her and nodded once. Ahsoka remembered the flashes of anger on her master's face well. They'd dwindled recently. Why, she didn't know, but she'd felt the dark side of Anakin Skywalker. It was why the Council barred him from Sidious.

She whistled softly, dragging her finger across the ground. “This is a lot to take in.”

“Sorry,” Opheia said. “I probably overwhelmed you.”

“No,” Ahsoka shook her head before looking up at Opheia. “But you never answered my question: Do you want to die?”

“No,” Opheia answered honestly. “I have a lot to live for like T- and the people and- And you, 'Soka.”

Ahsoka's breath hitched in a way that she didn't expect it to. She dipped her head before Opheia could see her blush, hiding her darkening lekku.

“But,” she continued and the obnoxiously giddy grin on Ahsoka's face dropped. “I have this feeling, in my gut, you could say, that I'm going to, regardless of how I feel about it.”

“I won't let you die.”

Opheia smiled softly at her, placing a hand on her knee. “Ahsoka, there's an emptiness in the Force because I'm alive. I can feel it. I feel it more and more with each passing day. I know that if it isn't me, it will be someone else and I'm not willing to let anyone else die for me.”

“I would,” Ahsoka said without hesitation and the admission terrified her because she knew it was true.

“You won't, I promise,” she said. She squeezed her knee and stood, offering her hand out to her. “I think we both need a nap and I don't want to be alone right now."

Ahsoka raised an eye marking at her as she looked away. “Will you take a nap with me? I'll sleep in my desk chair.”

Ahsoka stared up at her, a sudden truth rising to the surface. It washed over her like ice water, like eating her favorite food, like a knife twisting in her gut, like the exhilaration that came with winning a fight. Like a smile, from someone dear. She shook her head and accepted the outstretched hand, “We can share the bed, if you want.”

She exhaled, a tenseness leaving her shoulders. “Yeah,” she clasped Ahsoka's hand a little tighter. “That sounds nice.”

Ahsoka walked out of the storage,her hand still in Opheia's, her eyes still studying her profile. She smiled.

She loved Opheia.


	18. rationality

Opheia had never woken up in a world where Teriata didn’t exist. It carried a pain, a pain that cut deep and sharp and wholly. A pain that would never leave her. A pain that would keep growing with each death the Force wrought upon them until she gave her heart.

She pulled on clean robes, careful not to disturb Ahsoka in her bed. It was strange to think of the Togruta sleeping next to her, but at the same time, it had not been uncomfortable. There was a distance between them, a distance bridged by their closeness.

If memories existed after death, she would miss her. Her hand hovered over Ahsoka’s montrals, but she didn’t touch them like she wanted to. The slightest brush of air could wake up the sleeping girl and after yesterday...

Opheia let her sleep. She planned to be gone by the time she awoke.

She pulled her lightsabers to her with the Force, a familiar weight in her hand. Most of the Masters dismissed her skill, assuming her to be lacking in actual fight experience. But she knew her capabilities, capabilities honed over the years of being trapped inside the building she died in.

She slipped out silently, the hiss of the door the only sign of her exit.

The halls were still quiet, the Coruscant sky as dark as it could be with so many lights outside. She paused very briefly to watch a few speeders go by. The windows chilled her fingers and for once, she reveled in the feeling of the cold against her skin. She pressed her forehead to the glass, letting her soft exhale fog up the view in front of her.

A medic or two passed her, a few cleaning droids. No one made any note of her presence. To them, she was either an early riser or a sleepless wanderer.

She’d been both at one point or another.

Opheia didn’t feel as if she existed within her body as she wandered the halls of the Jedi Temple. She moved outside of herself, navigating her home with melancholy ease. On her way to the hangar, she paused in front of the creche doors. Aside from the soft wail of a single child, it was silent. Peaceful.

She looked back at the stairs she died on, resolved to keep the tranquility of the Temple. No one would die there like she did.

The hangar smelled of oil and steel. It always did and it too, like the cold of the glass and the togruta she cared for, was something she would miss.

She approached one of the speeders and looked back at her home.

She didn’t know if she would die as she killed Sidious or afterwards. Or even at all, really. All she knew was that she would never return to this place. It was too painful. Too full of memories that were and that would never be.

“Where are you going?”

Opheia didn’t have to look back to know who the owner of the voice was. “Out,” was the only answer she gave Anakin Skywalker.

She sensed him stepping closer. Her heart didn’t pound faster with him nearing her. His voice didn’t send icy terror over her body. Opheia wondered where her fear had gone or if she was finally empty.

“Go back to your room, Knight Opheia.”

“I can’t,” she turned towards him. He looked as if he hadn’t slept, bags under his eyes and his hair a complete mess. She stared at him before exhaling and shaking her head. “Leave the Order and be with Padme.”

“Why would I do that?”

Opheia smiled at the man she once hated. “Because you deserve happiness.”

Skywalker’s eyebrows furrowed and when he didn’t respond, she turned back to the speeder. “So do you,” he said as she opened the hatch. “You deserve happiness too.”

“I know,” she glanced back at him. “But I’m not going to get it.”

“Opheia.”

“Watch over Ahsoka for me,” she said, cutting off whatever he was going to say. “I... I care for her and I’m worried that my disappearance might cause her irrational grief.”

Skywalker appeared to be at a loss for a response as he shifted from one leg to the other and shoved a hand through his hair. “You’re the irrational one,” he ground out after a long moment. “You can’t fight Palp-  _ Sidious _ alone. Think rationally!”

Something snapped. Opheia whirled around, her heart thundering to life, blood pounding in her ears. She stomped towards him. “I have spent my entire  _ life _ being  _ rational _ ! And all it has brought me is misery,” she said, cursing the tears the pricked at her eyes. “I’m done. I am done with being the good little Jedi. The smart little Jedi. The  _ rational _ little Jedi. I’m finished with listening to my kriffing brain over my heart.”

Skywalker’s emotions echoed back the same thing in his eyes. In that moment, they were not two Jedi Knights in the Temple hangar, they were two bleeding hearts adrift in a sea of apathy. He took another step towards her. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “I’m the Chosen One. You won’t be able to kill him.”

Opheia wanted to laugh, but it caught in her chest in a bubble. “Sidious is just one man, Skywalker. He’s just one sith. One inconsistency in the balance of the Force,” she climbed into the speeder before he could stop her. “If you want to bring the Sith to an end, then you need to be alive to do so. Dismantle Sidious’s legacy. Find Dooku and Maul and restore the Republic with the help of your wife.”

“But-”

She shook her head. “That’s how you’ll bring balance to the Force, Skywalker. Let me do something useful and further that plan.”

They held each other’s stares for a time that seemed all too long. The sun was rising, the Temple waking. “Will you come back?” he asked.

“No.”

She left before he could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's such a short chapter. I wanted to keep the next part to one individual chapter so... Here you go.


End file.
